


Never Afraid

by PrettyPrairie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: All Other Characters are Minor Except for Main Characters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, POV Arya Stark, POV Sandor Clegane, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 61,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21645355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyPrairie/pseuds/PrettyPrairie
Summary: Sandor Clegane works as security for the Baratheon family. Arya Stark works as a waitress in King's Landing. Sandor needs a cup of coffee and becomes reacquainted with the down and out heiress, Arya Stark. They are both lonely. Sandor takes a chance and reaches out to the only person who was never afraid to look him in the face. Unfortunately, Arya has secrets that she's more than reluctant to reveal.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Arya Stark
Comments: 121
Kudos: 190





	1. Chance Meeting

Sandor Clegane sat at the table in the little rundown diner in the strip mall. He was the only customer. He eyed the waitress behind the counter. Her back was turned to him and she was busy cleaning. She had short, thick, wavy brown hair. She was petite and very small. He wondered if she was ever going to notice him.

Just then she turned and caught sight of him. Their eyes locked. Her big grey eyes widened. It was the Stark girl. What the fuck was she doing here? Why was she a waitress in a hole in the wall diner in a strip mall in King's Landing? Why wasn't she safe at home in Winterfell with her family?

She was moving towards him now. He couldn't help but notice she wasn't a child anymore. Her face was very pretty in a pixie-like sort of way. She was slender but well put together. She was wearing an awful brown and orange polyester uniform with a short vest.

She didn't smile when she reached him. She didn't look away either. She looked him right in the face. He remembered that about her. She had never been repulsed or afraid of his scars. It's what made him notice her in the first place all those years ago when she was a child.

She handed him a menu. "Good evening. Could I get you a drink?"

He handed the menu back to her. "I just want a coffee, black. Thanks."

She nodded and walked away. He watched her hips sway and he couldn't help but look at her very firm, very pert derriere. Gods! What was he thinking? She couldn't have been more than twenty. Her name tag said Arry. He knew her name was not Arry. It was Arya. How hard was it to spell Arya? Perhaps Arry was a nickname? She poured him a cup of coffee and brought it to him.

She nodded towards the sporting goods shopping bag he'd placed on the table. "Going fishing?"

"Camping."

"Really? That's a pretty small bag for camping gear."

He liked her face. He didn't like the way she was biting her bottom lip. It gave him ideas. Bad ideas.

"It's not camping, actually. It's for a survivalist trip. I only need the bare minimum for that."

"Oh, like Bear Grylls?"

He smirked. "Something like that." He blew on his coffee and took a sip. She continued to stand there looking at him.

"Why?" She asked so softly he barely heard her.

"Why what?"

"Why a survivalist trip and not a regular camping trip?"

She surprised him. He thought a moment before answering. "It clears the mind. It makes you focus on what's important."

She nodded; her face thoughtful. She left him then and went back behind the counter. He drank his coffee and looked out the window at the parking lot. He was trying not to stare at her. He wondered if she'd recognized him. She probably didn't, although his scars were pretty memorable. He started as he realized she was back again.

"Could I get you anything else?"

"No."

She laid his check down on the table and said, "Look, you may not remember--"

He cut her off. "I remember."

Her thick, dark eyebrows rose questioningly.

"Miss Stark." He confirmed.

"Mr. Clegane." She countered.

She was full of surprises. He was shocked she knew his name.

"I don't think I thanked you." She murmured.

"You don't need to thank me."

She gave him a sad smile. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here right now."

He looked at her loveliness. She made something inside of him stir. Saving her was probably the one selfless thing he ever did. It upset him that she was having this affect on him. He scowled at her. She turned and left without a word. She went into the kitchen leaving him all alone.

He glanced at his bill and took out his wallet. He waited but she never came back. Finally, he put some cash on the table. He took out a pen and wrote his phone number on the bill along with a short note. _Call me if you'd like to learn more about survivalist training._ He picked up his shopping bag and left.

After he left the diner, Arya began to think about him. Sandor Clegane also known as the Hound was security for the Baratheons. He had been there when her father and Robert Baratheon were killed. The small plane Mr. Baratheon had been flying crash landed on the runway at the Baratheon estate, the Red Keep. She was 11. She and Sansa and that horrid Joffrey were waiting for them there. The Hound and a man named Yoren were waiting there with them.

The plane had flipped, come apart and burned. Her father's broken body was lying on the runway. The Hound yelled for them to stay back and then he ran towards the destruction but there was nothing he could do. Sansa had screamed and screamed. Yoren had pushed Arya's face into his chest to keep her from looking. Joffrey didn't seem concerned in the slightest, most likely because he was a psychopath.

Three years later her mother, Robb, Sansa and she were supposed to attend her Uncle Edmure's wedding at the Twins. Sansa and Arya had wound up in a separate limo from her mother and brother. Sansa had a meltdown because her hair wasn't perfect so she had the hairdresser redo it. Her mother and Robb left ahead of them.

Arya was 14. She didn't want to go to a stupid wedding anyway so she was happy to be late. Sansa and she had just arrived at the Twins when there was a huge explosion. She jumped out of the limo and raced forward because she knew her family was inside. Sansa was screaming bloody murder and Arya heard the tires squeal on the limo as it tore off down the road.

Arya could see bodies laying in pieces on the ground and she recognized Robb from afar. She actually really only recognized his necktie. If was emblazoned with the head of a direwolf which was their family sigil. Robb didn't have a head any longer. That still didn't stop her from trying to get to him. There were people screaming and shouting, automatic weapons firing, and fire and smoke but Arya still ran towards the disaster.

She heard a man scream close behind her, "Girl!"

She never looked back; she just kept on running forward. Suddenly, she was tackled from behind. An extremely big man was screaming at her to stop as she struggled to get out from under him.

She screamed back at him. Dimly, she recognized the Hound from his scarred face. She didn't care. All she wanted was to get to Robb and her mother. She fought to get away but the Hound still held onto her. She found out later that he had cracked her on the back of her head with his security baton to stop her from running to her own death.

She was half-conscious and dazed when she realized she was being carried by the Hound. She must have blacked out because after awhile she awoke in pitch black darkness on someone's lap being held tight against their chest.

"What?" She was confused.

"Shhh, I'm not sure how safe we are here." A man whispered.

"What? Who are you?" Her head hurt.

"I'm Sandor Clegane."

"Huh?"

"I'm the Hound. I work for the Baratheons. There's been a bombing. You need to be quiet. We may still be in danger."

Arya heard screams and a lot of commotion. The air was smoky. She remembered. She tried to get up.

"No, stay down, Girl!"

"My Mom, I need to find my Mother!"

"There's nothing you can do now. Please be quiet, Arya."

She was surprised the Hound even knew her name. It calmed her down just the tiniest bit. "Why are you here?" She asked.

"I was just opening the car door for Jaime Lannister when the explosion happened. The limo left me behind and took Ser Jaime to safety."

"Our driver left me too. They drove away with Sansa."

"What were you thinking, Girl? I've never seen anything like it. You were running towards it and not away."

"I . . . I . . ." Arya started to sob. "Robb was lying on the ground, his head was gone."

"I'm sorry, Girl. Really I am." The Hound squeezed her tighter.

Arya continued to sob quietly. After awhile she fell asleep against his big chest.

She awoke with a start. "Where are we?" She asked.

"We're hiding in a gardening shed. We'll stay here until I think it's safe."

"But I can hear sirens."

"There's a battalion of emergency vehicles out there but they're being kept back because the area is not secured yet. I'm pretty sure it was a terrorist attack. There was automatic rifle fire. We have to stay here awhile longer."

She clung to the Hound and shivered uncontrollably. "I'm cold."

"Here, let me give you my jacket. It's not cold. You're in shock." He took off his jacket and helped her put it on in the darkness.

"Did you kill Mycah?"

"What?"

"Mycah."

"Who's Mycah?"

"The butcher's boy. At the Inn at the Crossroads. After I fought that cunt Joffrey and my dog bit him, you were sent after Mycah. Do you remember?"

"Aye, the butcher's boy. I remember."

"Did you kill him?"

"No, Girl. He drowned in the Trident. I thought you knew that."

"You _said_ he drowned. Are you sure you didn't drown him?"

"Of course not," he paused, "although, he was terrified of me. I probably looked like a monster from his worst nightmare with my ugly face chasing after him. I think it scared him so bad he'd rather he took his chances in the river. He jumped in and was swept downstream before I could get to him."

Arya could hear the Hound breathing in an out in the dark.

"So, I suppose it is my fault." He said softly.

Arya clung silently to him after that. Eventually, she must have dozed off. She awoke to the police shouting for anyone inside the shed to surrender with their hands up.

It was daylight. Arya turned to the Hound and looked him right in his face. She'd never been afraid to do that he remembered. "You're not ugly." She said.

That had been five years ago. It had upset Arya a little that the Hound had looked angrily at her at the diner tonight. She remembered how fierce and unfriendly he'd always been. Except for when she needed him the most she reminded herself. He could be kind if he wanted. Since the night of the wedding she'd understood there was a lot more to him that was hidden behind his scarred face.

Later that night Sandor was sitting in his room in the security complex at the Baratheon estate. He was trying to read but all he could think about was the girl. He thought about how young and pretty she was. How quiet she'd been even though she was quite loud when she was little. How rude he was to her for no reason. What a stupid note he'd left her. How she'd never call him in a million years.

He glanced at his phone on the arm of his chair and willed it to ring. He was nearly forty. He was twice her age. They could never have anything in common. She'd probably laugh at how pathetic he was. It was getting late. He should just call it a night. Suddenly, his phone chimed. He snatched it up. There was a text.

_I'll be at Mormont Memorial Park tomorrow at 6 pm. You can join me for a run if you like. Arya Stark_

Sandor was stunned. He realized he was pressing his phone to his chest in excitement. He waited a couple of minutes until he calmed down before he answered her text. _See you at 6._

Sandor was in his bed and had almost dropped off to sleep when another thought occurred to him. Why was the Stark girl armed? Most people probably wouldn't have seen it but he was trained to observe details like that. He'd seen the barely noticeable outline of a small weapon holstered under her work vest. What was he about to get himself into?


	2. Tease

Sandor arrived at Mormont Memorial Park about ten minutes early. He got out of his SUV and surveilled the area. The park was quite crowded. There were lots of kids and lots of parents. He saw several young people but he didn't see Arya. He decided to wait beside the large ornamental fountain in the center of the park. He leaned against the high limestone rim and took out his phone. If he didn't see her soon, he would text her to find out her location. 

She was five minutes late when he spotted her strolling towards him. She hadn't come from the parking lot. Even though it was very warm she was wearing a sleeveless tan camouflage vest over a red T-shirt. Apparently, she'd come armed. He knew the only reason for a vest in this heat was to cover her shoulder holster.

He thought there might have been an explanation for why she wore a weapon to work. It was possible her crappy diner had had a few robberies and she'd used it for protection there. It didn't explain why she was wearing it in broad daylight in a busy park.

"Hey." She greeted him.

She stepped up on the bottom lip of the fountain and hoisted herself up to sit on the wide rim about four feet off the ground. She was wearing gray cotton shorts that came to about mid-thigh. She crossed her ankles and started swinging her tanned legs beside him. He tried not to look at her smooth legs but he wasn't very successful. Her legs were incredibly toned and a few scars were visible.

With her perched up so high and his leaning back on the ledge they were nearly at the same height. Well, almost. He looked down into her face. "I didn't see you drive up." He remarked.

"I walked."

"You live nearby?"

"A few blocks away."

He was studying the constellation of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was noting his thick, black eyelashes.

"I don't have a car." She admitted.

"Don't you drive?"

"Of course I drive." She scoffed.

Then why didn't she have a car? She certainly had plenty of money for one. He decided not to ask her about it for now. Instead, he focused on the fact that she wasn't carrying a water bottle. What kind of a girl would go to a park for a run without any water but would make sure she brought a gun?

"Would you like a drink before we begin? I have some water in my vehicle." He offered.

"Maybe later. You ready?"

He nodded. She jumped down from her perch. She led him over to the circular sports track. It was jam-packed. He was aware the park had running trails throughout the woods. He didn't mention it. She started doing some leg stretches so he did some too.

The track was so crowded they couldn't go faster than a brisk walk. Halfway around some kids ran into Arya and knocked her into him. He grabbed hold of her to keep her from falling. She had more than a gun under that vest. Whatever it was it was hard and lumpy.

"Why don't we take the running trail?" He finally asked.

She stopped and stared up at him. Since she only came up to about tit high on him, she had to tip her head back pretty far. "I don't know you all that well, do I? I probably shouldn't go off into the woods with a stranger."

"Well, I don't bite. Besides, I think you have enough hardware on you to stop me if I tried." He raised his good eyebrow.

She laughed. It pleased him to see her laugh. He smiled down on her.

"OK, come on." She acquiesced.

They jogged easily together. He let her set the pace since her legs were a lot shorter than his. When they finished the route he led her over to his SUV for a drink.

"Thanks." She took the water bottle gratefully and sipped at it. They were standing beside the car door. "You're pretty agile for such a big man."

He saw her looking at his legs.

"Although you do have runner's legs, don't you? They're long." She eyed his calves.

She couldn't be admiring his legs, could she? He noticed she was looking at his thighs now. She reached out a hand as if to touch him but then seemed to remember herself and quickly pulled it back. She _was_ admiring his legs! She was _still_ looking at them! Sandor felt his face flush with heat. No one had admired his body before. No one had ever looked past his face.

They ended up sitting on the grass. Sandor kept his legs crossed Indian-style because he had suddenly become self-conscience. Arya's legs were stretched out in front of her. Sandor kept getting distracted by her hand running up and down the quadriceps muscle on her left thigh.

He explained about his upcoming survivalist trip and Arya asked him questions. She seemed genuinely interested. She listened and was quick to understand. Despite her trying to run into an ongoing terrorist attack in the past, she wasn't a fool. She was more intelligent than he'd imagined. She wasn't silly or giggly like a girl her age might be expected to be.

After a lull in the conversation they sat in silence as Sandor watched her hand rubbing her leg again. "Is your leg alright?"

"It's an old injury. It bothers me now and again." She confessed.

"Would you like me to massage the muscle?" He didn't know what had made him say it. At this point, he wasn't thinking too clearly.

She quickly looked over at him like he had lost his mind. "Uh, I don't think so." Her dark eyebrows came together as she frowned. He must have looked a little insulted because she added, "But thanks anyway."

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you in King's Landing? Are you going to the university here?"

She frowned again.

"I mean, you have graduated from high school, haven't you?"

"Of course I've graduated! I graduated from a private academy. Do you think I'm still a child?"

"When?"

"Last year."

"So . . . you're 18?"

"No! I'm 19!"

"Ah." Seven Hells! She was a teenager! He was sitting here gently being seduced by the slow motion of a hand rubbing over the thigh of a teenager. He tore his eyes away.

"I was supposed to start university last fall but . . . I didn't."

"Why not?"

"I . . . don't want to talk about it!" She was getting agitated again.

"Alright." He said gently.

"I wasn't ready." She said sullenly.

"Will you go this fall?"

"Maybe."

"Are you here all alone in the city?" He asked.

She looked at him defiantly. "I can take care of myself!"

"Is that why you are loaded down with weaponry?"

"What? No! I'm not discussing it with you." She huffed.

She leapt up. He stood as well. 

"I'm going home." She declared.

"Let me drive you."

"Why?"

He pointed. "You're injured."

"I got along fine before you came around!"

"That's not strictly true." His eyes pierced hers.

Her mouth fell open. She looked stricken. He'd gone too far. It wasn't the most sensitive thing he could have said. It probably was a mistake to remind a girl of the attack that had killed her mother and brother; an attack that could have killed her too.

"Fuck you!" She spat.

Before she could take off her scooped her up in his arms.

"What the fuck!" She shouted as her hand went under her vest.

He put his hand over hers to still the action. "You really want to do that in front of all these kids?" He hissed. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Girl."

She calmed down and studied his face to see if he was truthful. "Alright." She agreed. He released her hand and she removed it from her vest.

He began carrying her towards his vehicle.

"I can walk!"

He ignored her and only put her down when he was beside the passenger door. He opened it and she got in. They were at her apartment in minutes. It was rundown and not fashionable in any way.

"You live here?" He asked incredulously.

She gave him a murderous look. He got out and went around to her car door.

"I'm fine." She huffed again.

"I don't suppose you live on the first floor?" He asked hopefully. He wasn't relishing the idea of having to carry her up the stairs.

"No."

"Of course not." He shook his head.

"Don't try to carry me again." She warned.

She wasn't really limping so he just walked beside her. The front door of the building required a key for entry and had an intercom system to allow visitors to be buzzed in. It wasn't as secure as a doorman but it was better than nothing.

After they climbed the stairs to her apartment, she flopped down on a sofa that had seen better days. He went into the kitchen and prepared an ice pack. He sat beside her on the sofa and held it to her leg. She was silent but looked really annoyed. After awhile he asked her if the pain was better.

"Not really, no." She sighed.

He got up to bring her a drink of water and left the ice pack with her. When he returned she'd removed the pack and it was sitting in the center of the beat up coffee table. He handed the glass to her and she took a sip and then set it on the lamp table beside her. He was standing in front of her, unsure of what to do.

"You can give me that massage now." She briefly glanced at him and then looked away.

He froze for a moment. Was she serious? He waited for the punch line of the joke but nothing happened. He pushed the coffee table back and he got down on the floor on his knees and gingerly put his hands on her creamy thigh. He took a deep breath. His hands looked dark against her light tan.

He began slowly, gently massaging her leg. He was gentler than he'd ever been before in his life. He didn't want to alarm her or give her the slightest reason to tell him to stop. She was still looking off into the distance with her lips forming a pout.

He continued to run his hands and fingers over her again and again. Backwards and forwards he moved with his hands kneading her flesh. Eventually, he heard her sigh. He looked up and her head was lolled back onto the sofa cushion and her eyes were closed.

He kept on massaging her smooth, silky skin. She was so small his hands entirely covered her thigh. He kept sneaking looks at her face to make sure he was pleasing her. He saw he was easing her into a relaxed, satisfied state. Her arms had fallen to her sides and she looked open and vulnerable. Soft breaths were escaping her lips.

Her shorts were not tight to her legs. They were loose and there was plenty of room for him to slip his hands up under them. He wondered what would happen if he dared. He slowly got closer and closer to her shorts until he let the tips of his fingers ride up underneath the material.

"Mmm." She shifted slightly and opened her legs wider.

Gods! He thought as he carefully massaged higher and higher up. Slowly, slowly both of his hands were now completely under the leg of her shorts.

"Mmm." She murmured.

His eyes flicked to her face and she was biting her bottom lip. Her eyes were still closed. He was completely hard now. She'd made him hard without even touching him. He moved up even higher until he was touching the edge of her underwear. His pinky and ring finger ghosted over the top of her mons. He forgot to breathe as his finger found her clit and brushed across it.

Suddenly, Arya sat bolt upright with a gasp and shoved his hands away. Her eyes were wild and accusing. "Do you even know where the quadriceps muscle is? It isn't there! It's not nice to tease."

He leapt up to his feet. By Gods, she'd asked him to touch her! More than that, she'd encouraged him to go further! "No! I wasn't teasing but I think you were." He ground out.

She looked up at the anger in his tone and then her eyes were drawn to his shorts tenting outwards from his erection. She stared at it in complete shock with her mouth forming a perfect O.

He was suddenly furious with her. He covered himself with his hand and quickly stepped away from her. She was utterly cruel. The next thing she would do would be to laugh at him. He was sure of it. He strode quickly to the door and wrenched it open and left without a backwards glance.

"No, wait!" He could hear her call as he took the stairs two at a time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're off to a great start, aren't they? Who exactly was teasing whom? I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	3. Truce

As soon as he arrived back at his room, Sandor got into the shower to cool off and to take care of his _needs._ He was so upset he skipped dinner. He just paced around cursing and brooding. Later that night he tossed and turned in his bed and dreamed of pounding into Arya Stark and her calling out his name over and over again. Eventually, he woke up and had to take care of himself again. Oh Gods! How he hated her.

The next day he was short and rude to his co-workers. Well, he was never that pleasant to begin with but he was more angry than usual. He almost got into a fight with that ignoramus, Meryn Trant. He even had stupidly snapped at Cersei. She lambasted him up one side and down the other and humiliated him even more. The absolute worst thing, though, was that he couldn't stop checking his phone for a message from the girl. By the time he got into bed that night his anger had finally abated and he was just sad.

He toweled himself off after his morning shower. He'd had to take care of himself yet again while he thought about Arya. He imagined her biting her bottom lip as he languidly drove into her. Gods! He dressed in his work uniform of a non-descript black suit, white dress shirt and black tie. He holstered his Sig Sauer P226 9mm under his suit jacket. He reached for his phone on the dresser when he saw he'd missed a text from Arya.

_I'm sorry I thought you were teasing me. I couldn't believe you were serious. I realize I made a mistake. Honestly, I wasn't trying to tease you either._

His anger flared up again. Yes, how could he be serious? He was a joke to her. No wonder she couldn't believe someone like him would have the nerve to try it on with the likes of her. Her almighty highness!

The phone chimed again in his hand, startling him.

_I mean, I'm short and not very attractive or anything._

What?! What the fuck? He nearly dropped the phone.

_I'm not pretty like my sister. No one ever really wants to get with me. I really did think you were teasing._

He thought of her sister and her flame colored hair. She was attractive but it was nothing compared to what Arya did to him. He quickly texted her. _No, you're not just pretty like your sister. You are so much more than that._

Silence. There were no more texts. He'd said too much. He'd frightened her away.

By that evening it occurred to Sandor that maybe he hadn't scared her. Maybe she didn't believe him. After all, she hadn't believed he had wanted to touch her for real. She had thought he was fucking with her. Could she really have such little confidence in her looks? How was it possible? Had someone hurt her? Someone must have hurt her. He'd kill them. He got out his phone and texted her again. _I want to see you._

After a few minutes she texted, _OK, but just to be clear, we can only be friends; nothing more._

Ahhhh! He'd been friend zoned! He laughed when it had happened to other people. Now it wasn't so funny. Who was he kidding? He was lucky to even get that much from such a girl. Even if she only wanted him as a friend, she would still be the only friend he had. It was better that nothing. He responded to her text. _Fine_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! The dreaded Friend Zone! Poor Sandor. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	4. Dinner and Dessert

Arya wanted to be mad at that big jerk, Sandor Clegane, she really did. She was so sure he was trying to be funny until after she'd accused him and he stood up. If the way his shorts were tented out was any indication, it was _extremely_ obvious she had been wrong. He wasn't trying to be funny at all. Apparently, he really was attracted to her in some weird way she didn't understand.

She supposed his feeling were hurt. He wouldn't even let her try to explain. He just up and ran away. Ugh, is this what men were like? Did women always have to be the ones to smooth things over? He better toughen up if he knew what was good for him. He was lucky she decided to be the bigger person. At least that's what she told herself when she finally texted him.

They made arrangements to see each other the next day. It had been three days since their last awkward meeting. Sandor had gone to her apartment to pick her up. She buzzed him in the lobby door and then opened her door just as he arrived. 

He was holding a gift bag. "I got you a little something." He said as he shoved the bag into her hands.

"Uh, come in." Arya indicated for him to sit on the sofa with her. "Did you want me to open this now?"

"Sure, it's nothing special."

Arya took the tissue paper out of the bag and pulled out three packages of dish towels. She looked at him in surprise. "Gee, thanks?"

"I noticed you didn't have very many towels when I looked through your kitchen cabinets the other day when I was making you an ice pack."

"Yes, you're right, I did need some towels. Thanks." It was the strangest gift she had ever received but she saw how proud he looked and she got a little choked up for some reason.

"How's your leg?"

"It feels better."

"Did you want to go to the park?"

"No, I don't think I should run on it yet."

"Did you have dinner?" He asked.

"No, did you?"

"No, would you like to go out?" He inquired.

"How about I just make us something?"

Sandor's good eyebrow shot up. "Alright."

"I've some salmon. Are you OK with that?"

He nodded. She began removing things from the fridge.

"Do you need some help?" He asked.

"No, I've got it."

She took two wineglasses out of the cupboard and set them on the table. "I'm all out of wine, though. Do you think you could be a lifesaver and pick up some? There's a place a couple of blocks north of here." She smiled sweetly.

It wasn't until Sandor was waiting in line to pay for the wine when it dawned on him that he was purchasing alcohol for a minor. Fuck! She was a tricky one. It would serve her right if he put the wine back and picked up some non-alcoholic beer instead. He laughed out loud. The clerk glanced at him and then quickly looked away in fright. Sandor was used to it but it spoiled his good mood a little.

When Sandor arrived back at Arya's she was busy chopping vegetables. He showed her the bottle of Dornish red and she nodded. He went to open it but instead turned back to her. "Young lady, I'm going to have to see some ID." Arya looked perplexed for a moment and then she started laughing her head off.

She was making a salad. Personally, Sandor thought that salads were for rabbits but he wisely held his tongue. He found the dishes and set the table and he cleaned up the vegetable peels and put them in the trash.

"Everything's ready. We're just waiting on the salmon." Arya announced.

She took a seat on the sofa and Sandor sat on the other end. There were no other places to sit. Sandor looked around the apartment. She had a sofa, a coffee table, a lamp table, a lamp, a TV and a small table with two chairs. She had absolutely nothing else. Even he had more than that and he lived in a security complex. Everything was obviously second-hand too. It was not how he pictured a rich girl would live.

She picked up the remote. "Would you like to watch some TV?"

He shook his head. "What gives?" He motioned around the room.

"I don't know what you mean." She said rather defensively.

"You know what I mean."

"It's not really any of your business." She sniffed.

"No." He said quietly. He decided she had a particular knack for hurting his feelings.

She glared at him and then her face softened. "I've been cut-off."

"What?!"

"You heard me. It's what happens when you're a bad little Stark."

Sandor was shocked. "You must have had an inheritance!"

"Trust fund. The problem with trust funds is until I reach the age of majority which according to the trust fund is age 25, the trustee is in charge of the fund and distributing the assets as they see fit."

He stared at her. "They can't do that!"

"Oh, I assure you it's perfectly legal. I checked on it." Arya sighed.

"Who's doing this to you?"

"My Aunt Lysa Arryn with the full support of her slimeball of a husband, Petyr Baelish."

"Seven Hells! Yuck!" Sandor exclaimed.

"Yuck is right." Arya agreed.

"Why was she ever put in charge? What about your older siblings?"

My mother made her the trustee. Besides, my only legal older sibling is Sansa and she's not 25 yet either. She's just smarter than me and knows how to play the game. She's a good little girl and has all the comforts."

"You're not a good little girl?"

Arya just gave him a look.

"What about Jon Snow? He's older."

"My father died before my mother and she made sure Jon isn't in charge of anything."

"Why are you being punished? Or are they stealing the money?"

"I don't think they're stealing it. I'm pretty sure it's wrapped up tight. They can't get their grubby hands on it. But they are punishing me."

"Why?"

She hesitated and pursed her lips. "I'm not behaving like a proper young lady."

Sandor couldn't help himself. He laughed. "Girl, you need a lawyer."

"I've got Davos Seaworth. He's working on it for me."

Sandor frowned. "But how do you have enough to live on? You can't be making much as a waitress."

The oven timer started beeping. Arya hopped up and took the salmon out of the oven. Sandor reached for the wine bottle.

"I had to sell my car." She said.

Arya put the food on the table and Sandor poured the wine. They sat down to eat.

"Can we not talk about this right now? I want to enjoy my dinner." Arya sighed.

Sandor nodded and then reached his arm across the table and briefly touched her hand with his. Arya's big grey eyes looked at his hand and then at Sandor and she gave him such a soft look that Sandor wanted to lean across the table and kiss her. He knew it would be a mistake, though, so he didn't.

Sandor ate everything in sight. He even finished off the large salad that Arya had made. "My Gods, Girl! That was delicious! You sure can cook! How did you make something so simple taste so good? I would never have believed it possible."

Arya was pleased. Here was a man who liked to eat. Here was a man who would appreciate her cooking. She smiled shyly at Sandor. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Seriously, I would never have expected it from you."

"Hey, don't overdo it with the compliments!" She laughed.

"No, I mean you're too young to have been to culinary school. Did you learn at your diner?"

Arya's mood shifted then. "I've had some training." She mumbled. She got up abruptly and began to clear the table.

Sandor watched her. He knew he had said something wrong. He'd upset her somehow. "I only meant I really enjoyed dinner and to thank you."

"A woman at my school taught me."

"Where did you go to school?"

Arya opened her new dish towels and ran some dishwater into the sink. She turned to look at him with a dish cloth in her hand. "You know, at my school all the students had to take turns in the kitchen. All men must serve, after all. It taught respect and appreciation for the efforts undertaken to feed all of us. As a bonus, I learned to make some really great meals and some even better desserts. We didn't mind washing the dishes at all when we knew we would be fed so well." She looked at him meaningfully.

Sandor thought he understood the message. He got up and came over to the sink and looked at her uncertainly as he took the dish cloth out of Arya's hand. She nodded and gave him a slight smile. Sandor washed the dishes as Arya stood beside him and dried them off.

Arya poured them some more wine. She moved to sit on the sofa and Sandor joined her. She sat on one end and he sat on the other. After awhile, she put her wineglass down, laid her head on the arm of the sofa and stretched out across it. She rested her stocking feet on Sandor's lap. Her eyes closed and before Sandor knew what he was doing he was massaging her foot. He couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself.

"Mmm." She murmured.

He wouldn't touch her leg. He wouldn't. A friend might rub your feet he rationalized. A friend might touch your hand or give you a hug but a friend wouldn't touch you anywhere else without permission. He was her friend. That's why he bought her dish towels at the mall and not some lingerie from Victoria's Secret like he wanted to.

"Mmm." She exhaled.

His cock twitched. He closed his eyes. She was doing it to him again.

After a few minutes, Arya opened her eyes to look at Sandor. He was making her feel very good. His head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. His expression was blissful. She realized he was enjoying it every bit as much as she was. His hands were extremely large. His fingers were very long and very thick. It was hard to believe he was so dexterous and could touch her so delicately. She wondered how very long and very thick he was elsewhere. How dexterous he might be with something else. How he could use it to make her feel good.

She remembered how big it looked pushing against his shorts the other day. It had been straining to get out. She wondered if he was hard right now. She slowly edged her foot over until it touched a massive unyielding wall of steel. Sandor's lips opened and he made a sound. Arya's face flushed. The look on his face was the most erotic thing she'd ever seen. She couldn't help herself. She brushed her foot against him again and then once more. Sandor's eyes opened and he turned to look at her. He had grabbed her offending foot and held it still in an iron grip against his cock. He was breathing very loudly. His brown eyes looked at her pleadingly.

"Touch me. I need you to touch me." He implored.

Arya sat up and crawled over to him. She got onto her knees beside him and laid her cheek against his forehead. She rested one hand on the back of his neck and her other hand slowly trailed down his chest until it came to rest where they both wanted it. He moaned again only louder this time. He was still breathing heavily and Arya was so fascinated she was almost holding her breath. She looked down at her hand on him. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. He suddenly pushed her hand away. She didn't want to stop! But he was only taking himself out of his elastic waistband and then she had a real eyeful.

She had no idea a man could be that large. He picked up her hand and placed it back on his cock. She'd never done anything like this before. His hand was over hers, guiding her. She couldn't take her eyes off of it. He'd turned his face into the side of her neck. His hot breath was on her skin and the sounds he made were loud in her ear.

He clasped his other arm over her shoulder and pressed his hand firmly into the center of her back pinning her to him. She pumped him and gently squeezed him over and over in the rhythm he was creating. He showed her how to twist her wrist over his cockhead. He was leaking now making the slide easier and they went faster and faster until he let out a guttural cry and exploded in her hand. He shuddered and it kept on coming. There was too much. If overflowed her hand and ran between her fingers. He removed his arm from her shoulder and used both of his hands to try to contain the amount of it as it continued to burst forth.

Arya kept staring in excitement and disbelief until Sandor shook her out of her reverie by asking for a towel. She jumped up and ran into the bathroom to get a hand towel. After he was done cleaning himself and had put his manhood back in his shorts, they sat silently on the sofa together once again. Sandor's breathing returned to normal. Arya was still slightly stunned.

"I'm sorry." He said. She turned to look at him but he wouldn't look at her. He was embarrassed. "I know you just want to be friends. It won't happen again. I promise."

Arya gulped. Friends? Friends? What the fuck? Yeah, sure she wanted to be his friend but by Gods what she really wanted was to see more of his wondrous cock and find out what other miraculous things it could do!

Later that night, Sandor lay in his bed thinking about what had happened. He had practically begged her to touch him. He'd never before begged a woman for anything. There was just something about her he couldn't resist. The most extraordinary thing was she had obliged him. It was enough. It had to be enough. He would not frighten her away with his needs. He was sure her foot had accidentally slipped against him. It was just wishful thinking that she'd done it on purpose. It was enough. He could live on the memory of her bringing him off for a year if he had to. He would!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Arya! She didn't get any dessert but Sandor certainly got a nice treat! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	5. The Lost Puppy

Sandor arrived at the diner to pick up Arya from work. He figured it didn't make any sense for her to take the bus when he could just as easily swing by. He waited by the register while she went into the bathroom to change out of her work uniform. The other employee, the cook, came out of the kitchen to look Sandor over.

"Are you her boyfriend?" The cook was a short, chubby kid with curly hair. He was wearing a floury apron. 

Sandor glared at him. "I'm her friend."

"Is that right?" The cook gave him a look. "Why is someone like you interested in a girl like her?"

"That's none of your business." Sandor bristled.

"She's a good girl."

"I know that." Sandor said defensively.

"She could get hurt pretty easily."

"I"m not planning on hurting her." Sandor scowled.

"Isn't that what they all say?" The puffy kid frowned.

Sandor wanted to bash his head in. Just then, Arya came out of the kitchen smiling at him and he forgot he was mad.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Hot Pie." Arya said cheerfully.

"Have a good night, Arry." Hot Pie grinned.

They were buckled into Sandor's SUV. He waited.

"What?" She asked.

"He called you Arry."

She pulled out her uniform from her backpack. "Well, that's what my name tag says." She showed it to him.

"Yeah, I noticed that the first time I saw you here. And . . . "

"And nothing. They spelled my name wrong on this stupid tag and it just stuck I guess. Arry is so much easier to remember than Arya. It's easier to spell too, apparently."

She said it so casually that he didn't believe her. He knew she was smart but he was also starting to realize she was tricky. She had changed out of her work uniform and she was wearing her casual camouflage vest. He looked over at her and narrowed his eyes.

She shrugged and reached out to turn on some music and smiled.

They stopped at the park first and jogged through the woods awhile. Afterwards, she invited him up to her apartment. She offered him a drink and then she went to take a shower. Sandor watched a ball game on TV while he waited. He wondered why she had four good quality locks on her door. He was tempted to snoop around her apartment but there was nothing in the living room or kitchen to snoop through. He'd have to go into her bedroom before he probably found something good and he didn't want to risk her finding him in there. 

Arya came bouncing back into the living room fresh from her shower. "Would you like some dinner, Sandor?" She asked as pleasant as could be.

"Sure. What are we having?"

"I got some nice steaks just for you."

"You shouldn't have, Arya, I know you don't have much money." 

She shrugged. She whipped together a marinade and got the steaks into it. She put a couple of potatoes in the oven and started on a Cobb salad. Sandor was once again sent for more wine. Sandor opened it and they had a drink while they were giving the steaks a little longer to marinate. They were sitting at the table.

"I was thinking," Sandor began.

"There's your problem." Arya laughed.

"No, I was thinking about your trust fund."

"I'm not going to be your sugar mama, Sandor, no matter how nicely you ask."

"Would you be serious?"

"OK."

"How are you going to go to school this fall?"

"I didn't know I was going to school this fall."

"Don't you want to?"

Her good mood was gone. "Do we have to talk about this now?"

"Can't you just tell me what's wrong? Why didn't you go to school last fall? Was it the money?"

"No, it wasn't the money. That's the main reason I got cut-off. It was because I wouldn't go."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Not really." 

She got out the steaks and put them on to broil. Sandor became very quiet.

After they finished eating, Sandor got up and started to clean up and wash the dishes. "Dinner was very nice, Arya."

Arya got the dish towel and stood beside him. She knew she had been rude to him. "I'm sorry, Sandor. I know you only want to help. It's just that it's stupid and embarrassing." She leaned into his arm and tucked her face into his shirt. He put his arm around her.

"We can talk about it later." He said.

"OK. I appreciate that Sandor. I"m glad . . . I'm glad you're here."

They listened to some music and discussed their favorite bands. Sandor liked Led Zeppelin and was a also a die-hard Jimi Hendrix disciple. Since Arya had never really heard Jimi's music before, they listened to some Purple Haze.

After awhile, Arya suggested they go out for some ice cream. She went into her bedroom and came out wearing her camouflage vest again. She'd left it off after her shower. Sandor gave her an exasperated look. She ignored him. They headed over to the Dairy Queen.

As Sandor and Arya were waiting in line, a little boy took one look at Sandor's face and started screaming. Arya didn't know what to do. Sandor went and sat at the furthest booth in the back leaving Arya with some cash to buy their ice cream. Arya quietly told the frightened child that Sandor was just a nice man who had an accident but was still nice. The boy looked to his mother for confirmation and the mother nodded. Eventually, the little boy peeked at Sandor from behind his mother's legs and waved. Sandor gave a half-hearted wave back to him.

Arya brought the ice cream to the table. Sandor had only wanted a cone but Arya had gotten a Peanut Buster Parfait. "You are a lightweight." Arya announced as she dug into her triple layers of ice cream, hot fudge and peanuts topped with whipped cream and a maraschino cherry. She had taken the maraschino cherry off the top and set it aside. Sandor watched her happily chow down with a dab of whipped cream on her chin.

"Oh, that was too much. I don't know what I was thinking!" Arya moaned while holding her stomach.

Sandor laughed at her.

"Would you like my cherry, Sandor?" Arya asked coyly.

Sandor's eyebrow shot up and he had a shocked expression on his face. She held the maraschino cherry up by the stem and smirked.

Relief flooded over him. "I'd love your cherry, Girl."

Arya leaned forward and fed it to him.

"Mmm, sweet." He winked.

They continued to laugh and joke around until Arya realized that Sandor was distracted by something behind her. Arya turned around and saw two young couples crammed into a booth together staring at Sandor with disgust. It was obvious they were whispering about Sandor and her amongst themselves behind their hands. Arya was outraged.

"What's your problem?" Arya spat at them.

The two couples just whispered and tittered more.

"I said, what's you problem?" Arya hadn't taken her eyes off the offending foursome.

"Little girl, didn't your mama ever tell you not to take treats from strange men?" The snotty blonde girl said maliciously.

Arya jumped up and at the same time Sandor grabbed her arm and pulled her over to him.

"Let me guess, he said he was looking for his lost puppy, right?" The blonde continued.

Arya took a step towards the blonde but Sandor was quicker and he strong-armed Arya onto his lap and held her down.

"Look, he can't even wait until he gets her into his white van to molest her." The bitch sniggered.

"Let's take this outside. I'm going to teach you a lesson." Arya said in a cold, flat voice.

Sandor suddenly stood up and displaced Arya from his lap. He walked over to the blonde bitch and squeezed his way into the booth beside her. She was forced to quickly climb on top of her boyfriend to avoid being sat on. Their side of the booth looked like too many clowns had tried to force their way into a clown car. Arya quickly squeezed herself in beside the other couple on the opposite side of the table. They weren't quite as squished but it was uncomfortable.

Sandor reached over and took a handful of French fries off of the blonde's tray and slowly started to eat them.

"If you wanted us to join you, all you had to do was ask." Sandor smiled frighteningly.

"What do you think you're doing?" The athletic looking jock on Arya's side of the booth said stupidly.

Sandor pointed with a French fry at the jock and growled, "I'm not talking to you."

The foursome looked pretty scared.

"Uh-oh! You have some ice cream on your lips, Girl." Sandor said in a sing-song voice as he nodded toward Arya. "For goodness sake, let me help you clean that up." He licked his thumb and leaned across the table and rubbed it provocatively over Arya's lips.

"You're still sticky!" He said in mock exasperation. He removed his thumb from her lips and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. "Here, wet it, Girl." He pressed his thumb back to Arya's lips for her to lick. She did him one better. She took hold of his hand and put his thumb into her mouth and sucked it as she looked up at him from underneath her eyelashes.

She pulled it out with a loud pop. "How's that?"

Sandor stared at her with a half-pleased look on his face. "Hmm." He answered as he gave her lips a few more swipes.

"Oh! Your hands are sticky too." Sandor picked up a napkin from the table and took Arya's hand and pretended to wipe it off. "Still sticky." He then leaned slightly forward and brought her hand to his lips and began to slowly lick in between each of her fingers. He then proceeded to take each finger into his mouth one at a time and sucked them loudly and thoroughly. He released each one with a wet pop.

The foursome stared in horrified fascination. Sandor took the blonde's chicken tenders and slowly ate them.

"Now then, would any of the rest of you like to help me find my lost puppy?" He looked at each one of the foursome in turn. "He's a long, fat dachshund and if you scratch him behind his head just right, he'll sit up and beg for you."

They were all terrified. You could have heard a pin drop. In the ensuing silence, Sandor took the other girl's milkshake and slurped it down loudly.

"No?" Sandor shrugged. "How about you, Girl? You still want to help me find my puppy?" He asked Arya.

Arya nodded although she was a little weirded out herself.

Sandor stood up and reached out his hand to her. Arya took it and stood up in front of him. He towered above her. "Good, I think my puppy is going to love you."

Sandor and Arya strolled out of the Dairy Queen arm in arm. Arya glanced back in through the window and could see the group staring at them with their mouths hanging open.

As they drove away, Arya didn't know what to say. Sandor didn't say one word. After a few minutes, she got a little unnerved by his silence and put down the window and let the cool night air blow in her face. As soon as Arya had unlocked the lobby door to her apartment complex, Sandor grabbed her upper arm in a vise-like grip and marched her up the stairs. She could feel the anger pouring off of him. He was steaming. He took her key out of her hand and opened her door with one hand while still holding her with the other. He propelled her inside none to gently.

Only the light over the kitchen sink was on. It cast a faint glow over the living room. Sandor pushed Arya onto the sofa. She knew she was in trouble. Sandor started pacing. "First off, Girl, that was downright insulting. I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

"I just thought--"

"Shut it! I've cracked more skulls and broke more teeth than you've had birthdays. I don't like to admit it but I've even done worse that that, if you get my meaning. There are people who truly need to be taken down and ones who aren't worth my time of day. They weren't worth the effort. I'm not going to jail for some stupid fucking cunts at the Dairy Queen and I'm not letting you go to jail for them either. You're walking around carrying a weapon under that vest. Is it even registered? Would you like to be picked up by the police with it? The only smart thing you did was not to take it out."

"It's registered." She protested.

"What about the other weapons you've got under there? Are they legal?"

Arya kept her mouth shut.

"Uh-huh, I thought so." Sandor continued to pace. "You think I haven't had people insult me before? Do you see my face? People have been insulting me most of my life. That kid that screamed at me? That's normal. It happens all the time. It doesn't bother me anymore. Does it bother me that you look like you're about 15 and I look like a pedophile? Yeah, it does. That does bother me." Sandor sat down heavily on the opposite end of the sofa. "Maybe, we shouldn't be friends after all." He said with a sigh.

Arya quickly scooted over to him and raised herself up on her knees and put her cheek against his forehead and her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry, Sandor. You're right. You were perfectly capable of handling that situation." She kissed his temple.

His arm went around her shoulder and his hand spread out over the center of her back, pinning her to him. One of her hands still clutched at his neck and the other one fell almost of its own accord to his lower abdomen. She heard his breath catch in his throat. They both stared at her hand.

"Take it out, Sandor." Arya whispered.

"No." He huffed.

"Yes." She insisted. "I want to see you. I want to see your cock."

"No."

"Come on, Sandor. I want to touch it."

He shook his head. He was still angry.

"Come on, you know you want to." Arya nuzzled his neck and kissed him below his ear. "Oh, you don't want to? Fine." She started to get up. He grabbed her and pulled her back down.

He tried to resist her. He really did. There seemed to be a disconnect between his brain and his body because the next thing he knew he had unbuttoned his button and unzipped his shorts. He revealed himself to her. His cock was hard and proud. She wondered if it was always that way. He tried again to resist but instead he took hold of her hand and placed it on him. They both moaned together. Unfortunately, his shorts were too tight and there was no room for her to manipulate him.

She stood up. "You need to take your shorts off."

Sandor looked at her for a moment and then got up and did as he was told. He was nude from the waist down. Arya looked over him with a raised eyebrow and a gleam in her eye.

"Now, lay down on the sofa." Arya directed. Sandor stretched out with his head resting on the arm of the sofa. This was more to her liking. She got down on her knees on the floor and put one hand on his face and rested the other hand on his abdomen. She looked down into his face and watched him as she slowly rubbed small circles on his skin as she got closer and closer to his straining member. She went around and around, careful not to touch it. Yes, she knew how to tease if she wanted to.

Finally, he couldn't take any more and he put his hand over hers and guided her over to his huge cock once again. She pumped and squeezed and they found the rhythm he needed. She watched as he tried to control his expressions as she played with him. It was a losing battle. He couldn't rule his face at all. Every pleasure he was feeling and every emotion he was experiencing was plainly visible on his face. Arya reveled in it.

Eventually, he let go of her hand and let her have her way with him. She glanced at his sinful, giant cock throbbing in her hand. She thought if anyone's cock was made for fucking, it had to be his. She looked back down into his face and his eyes were open. He put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her down to his lips. She liked the feel of his big, heavy hand on her. She began kissing him deeper and deeper. He fought for dominance with her with his tongue. She pulled away from his mouth.

"Just let me do this my way, Sandor. Relax." She kissed him again and he let her take over. He became slicker and slicker and gasped and moaned. She paid close attention to what he seemed to like. "Do you like how I'm stroking you? Do you like how I"m handling you?" Arya felt drunk on the power. She remembered to twist her wrist just so over his cockhead and he quaked and came with an explosive force.

Later that night, Sandor lay on his back in his bed thinking. He was staring at the ceiling with his head resting on his arms. The first time he'd gone out with Arya, he had his hand up her shorts. The second and third times, well . . . she'd had her hand down his shorts. What was happening? Tonight, she'd actually asked him to, no, she hadn't asked, she'd _made_ him make himself available to her. She'd dominated him and he'd let her! She seemed like she wanted to do it and she seemed like she liked it.

He had been humiliated at the Dairy Queen by the little boy but Arya had handled it with a gentle grace. She had made him grateful and proud of her. The second situation troubled him. He was worried about what she might have done. Even if she was trying to defend him, she could have made everything so much worse. Gods!

He remembered yelling at her. He remembered her apologizing. Had she only touched him because she knew it was what he wanted? Had she only done it to placate him? He thought about the order of events. He had threatened to not be her friend and only then had she wanted to touch him. Was he coercing her? He could tell she was lonely. Was he taking advantage of it? Was he taking advantage of her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Sandor right to be worried that he's taking advantage of Arya or is he way off track? Also, what happens at the Dairy Queen stays at the Dairy Queen, everyone knows that! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	6. Forget It

The next day Sandor checked his phone about mid-morning. He saw a voicemail from Arya.

_I thought some more about what you said last night. If this is all too much for you, if you feel too weird about our age difference . . . It doesn't bother me but obviously it bothers you. I guess what I'm trying to say is we don't have to . . . I mean if you want this to end now, I get it. Goodbye, Sandor._

The fuck? Why was she doing this? Was she right and this was what he wanted? Did she just give him an easy out? Didn't she care about him? She sure was willing to let go of him easily enough. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was better to get out now before he got too far in. Sandor took a deep breath. The problem was that he was already too far in.

He didn't call her. He brooded about her message the rest of the day. He didn't like the goodbye at the end of the voicemail. It sounded final. It sounded like she had already decided it was over. He took a shower after he got off work. He paced around his room. He knew her work schedule. He knew she got off work in an hour. Fuck it. He drove over to her diner. He waited in his vehicle until just before her shift was over.

Arya was doing some last minute clean-up in the kitchen. Sandor hadn't bothered to respond to her message. She'd checked her phone several times throughout the day. His rejection hurt. She had thought so highly of him. Apparently, he didn't think quite so highly of her. She heard the bell on the door which meant a customer had entered the dining room. She was upset but she knew she had to rule her face. She put on her friendly fake smile. She left the kitchen and walked into the dining area. It was Sandor. He stood uncertainly by the door. Her smile fell away.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I've come to give you a ride home."

"Didn't you get my message?"

"Yes, I got it."

"Well?" She asked brusquely.

He was taken aback by her cold manner. He didn't like it. "I decided it doesn't matter what some stupid cunts at the Dairy Queen think."

"You know they won't be the only ones, right?"

He was drawn toward her. She stood her ground as he advanced on her. He looked down into her big, grey Northern eyes "I know that."

She glanced at the clock. "I've got to go now if I don't want to miss the bus."

"I said I would take you home."

"I don't need you to take me home. I can get home by myself." She tried to go around him. He back-tracked until he was blocking the door.

"I know you can get home by yourself."

The chubby cook and another waitress came out of the kitchen and stared at Sandor. They must have been listening. It made him angry.

Arya wouldn't look at him. She glanced out the window. "Excuse me, you're in my way."

Sandor wanted to grab her and stop her but the others were watching. He stepped aside. Arya picked up her backpack and went out. He followed her.

"Why are you doing this? You seemed to like me just fine last night on your sofa." He said to her retreating back. "Or did you?"

She stopped. She didn't turn around. "What's that supposed to mean? Of course I enjoyed being with you."

"Are you sure? I wondered . . . " He faltered. "I wondered if you really wanted to do that or if you just did it because I was angry and you didn't want me to leave."

She turned around. "What? You think I'm that . . . desperate and . . . pathetic?"

"I wondered if I was taking advantage of you."

"Taking advantage of me?!" She clenched her fists. "Yeah, you could say you kind of did. Ever since you showed me your body, I couldn't think of anything else! I couldn't wait to get your pants off. But you can keep your big stupid dick if that's your opinion of me. Since you think I'm so pathetic." Her eyes flashed. She had to get away. He was making her lose control. She was having trouble ruling her face. She whirled around and took off at a brisk pace to the bus stop. Sandor did not follow.

She fumed on the bus ride all the way to her bus stop near her apartment. She stomped the couple of blocks to her building. Sandor's SUV was in her parking lot. She stomped up to his window. He wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere. He better not be in her building, she thought. He wasn't in the lobby. She stomped up the stairs. Sandor was sitting on the floor beside her door.

"Really? Go away!"

He scrambled up. "Arya!"

"This is stupid. Just go back where you came from. I don't want to be with someone who is embarrassed to be seen with me."

He reached out his arm to her and she slapped it away. Sandor started to panic. He was afraid he was going to lose her. He hadn't understood until that moment how much he wanted her. He tried to reach for her again and she slapped his arm away even harder. It didn't stop him. He pulled her into his arms in a bear hug, pinning her arms to her sides. She stomped on his instep.

"Stop it, Girl! Stop it! Don't do this to me!"

Arya stilled in his arms. She heard the hurt in his voice. He continued to squeeze her tightly against his big chest. She let him. She relaxed into his embrace. For some reason it had hurt her to hurt him.

Some people came down the stairs and eyeballed them as they passed by. This was ridiculous, Arya thought. "Let's go inside, Sandor." She said.

He let her go and they went inside her apartment. She went into the kitchen and Sandor followed right behind her. She turned to speak but before she could say anything he lifted her up onto the counter and proceeded to kiss her. At first, his kisses were soft, supplicating kisses but soon his kisses became serious. 

"Arya." He breathed when they had finally come up for air. "Arya, I'm sorry. Fuck anyone who disapproves." He hugged her and rested his chin on the top of her head. "I don't think you're pathetic, either. I just know how it is to be lonely."

Arya looked up into his face. It dawned on her that he might have been lonely for a long, long time. It wasn't that his burn scars were so terrible, in her opinion. It was what he thought of himself that was the problem. Arya reached out and touched him gently on his scarred cheek. He shied away from her hand. "Don't touch me there."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not, on the outside, no."

She realized he must have meant it hurt him on the inside. She understood he wasn't ready to be touched in certain places. She knew the feeling.

"I need to take a shower, Sandor."

"Can't we just sit down for a minute?" He led her over to the sofa. He sat beside her and held her in his arms for a long, long time. It soothed Arya. He soothed her. It felt good to be wanted.

Sandor eventually let her go and Arya was able to take a shower. He ordered some Dornish take-out and they spent the rest of the evening listening to Coldplay and Queen while kissing and cuddling in each other's arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	7. I Win

It had been several days since their blow up. Everything seemed to be working out. They had discussed going hiking together but they had to wait until Sandor had a day off. Arya was able to rearrange her work schedule so they could both have the day off together. It was just supposed to be a day hike. Arya had never been to the Stormlands. Sandor assured her it was wild and beautiful.

It was early on Thursday morning when Sandor arrived at Arya's apartment. She was ready and waiting. He immediately gave her a kiss. She immediately gave him breakfast. He made sure he had brought plenty of water. She made sure she had brought her camouflage vest. They were heading out to the Stormlands National Park. It would be a long drive.

They spent some time without talking as they listened to music instead. Arya was feeling a little vulnerable after having let Sandor get so close to her. She wasn't very good with emotional stuff. She was used to pushing her feelings down. Far down. It was safer that way.

Eventually, Arya started to talk about her family. Her cousin, Jon, who she still thought of as her brother, was a Marine stationed at the Wall. She'd only seen him a couple of times in the last several years. Her foster brother, Theon, was in the Navy and she hadn't seen him at all since the funeral for her mother and Robb. Sansa was studying at Parsons, the New School for Design to become a fashion designer. She had always loved clothes and horror of horrors, sewing.

Bran was going to graduate from prep school next year. He was interested in the ministry. Luckily, Rickon was in the same school as Bran so they were together. He was striving to become an Olympic tri-athlete. He was currently focusing on a new training technique called the art of the zig zag. Arya was interested in studying medieval history, warfare and weaponry.

"Medieval warfare, huh?" Sandor remarked. "Do you mean trebuchets and stuff like that?"

"Yes, but mostly I like medieval combat skills. Fighting with swords, daggers, spears and crossbows, things like that. I have a sword. My brother, Jon, gave it to me."

"Yeah, I remember your whole family was into that when I went to Winterfell. Your father and Robert Baratheon lived for that stuff. So do the Lannisters. I sparred with some of your brothers."

"I remember."

"You know, I can swing a mighty fine long sword myself." He boasted. "I still compete in historical reenactment tourneys. The annual King's Hand Reenactment Tourney is next month."

"I know. I remember seeing you in your dog helm when you jousted in it when I was a little girl. The tourney was in honor of my father that year."

"I remember it. Did you see that fiasco with my brother, Gregor?"

"Yeah, I saw it. It was pretty scary. He almost took your head off." She frowned.

"Stupid cunt." Sandor muttered.

Sandor brooded a little while and Arya fell asleep. Eventually, he had to wake her when he stopped at a service station. He figured she wouldn't want to miss a bathroom break. They were inside and Arya was checking out some cheap souvenirs. Sandor was getting a coffee. He was at the register getting ready to pay when Arya came up and showed him a fluffy purple dragon pillow she liked. The clerk spoke up an said he should go ahead and buy it for his daughter.

You could cut the tension with a knife once they were back on the road. 

"How old are you, anyway?" Arya decided to go ahead and put her foot in it.

"Gods!" Sandor exclaimed. "I'm 38."

"Well, technically you are old enough to be my--"

"Shut up!" He barked. "I mean, that's not that old." He glanced over at her and she had the strangest look on her face. He couldn't decipher what it meant only that knowing her, it probably wasn't good.

After an awkward silence, Sandor asked her about school again. "I really think you should go. It's a lot easier to take care of your education when you're young before you have too many other responsibilities and distractions to keep you from it."

"Yes, Daddy."

He looked over at her quickly and she was actually _smirking_.

"Watch your smart mouth, little girl, before Daddy gives you a spanking."

She started laughing then and couldn't seem to stop. Finally, she choked out, "I'd give good money to see you try."

Sandor couldn't help but shake his head and try to hide his own smile.

They finally arrived at the park. Sandor chose a fairly gentle but remote trail. He didn't want Arya to strain her leg again. Arya stood on the SUV's running board trying to pass Sandor a granola bar over the top of the roof when her camouflage vest made contact with the top edge of the door frame and Sandor heard a loud clunk.

"What exactly do you have under that vest, anyway?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

Sandor made a face. "At least tell me what type of handgun you have."

"It's a Ruger LC9s."

"Do you know how to shoot it?"

"You aim and squeeze?"

They hiked for about two hours, taking in the raw beauty of the area. Sandor was surprised to learn that Arya liked wildflowers. He didn't think she was the type. They stopped for lunch. Sandor told her about the Westerlands where he grew up. Arya told him about the North although he had already been to Winterfell once.

"I'm sure KLU has a great medieval history program." Sandor slyly slipped into the conversation.

"Actually, they do."

"Well?"

"OK, you just aren't going to let it go, are you? The reason I didn't go to school last year was that I had a little panic attack. Are you satisfied?"

"A little one or a big one?"

She took a deep breath. "A big one. There were too many people. I was unfamiliar with the surroundings, There were too many unknowns."

Sandor studied her hunched shoulders. She probably had PTSD from the terror attack and her father's accident and probably didn't even know it. "Did you ever get counseling after . . . you know?" He asked softly.

"In a way."

"Well, the first thing you should do is familiarize yourself with the place. Know your way around backwards and forwards. Know where all the exits and hiding places are located. The summer is the ideal time to do it too because there's a lot less students in the summer classes."

She looked at him. He was . . . he was . . . she looked away. She already knew all of that but she was touched that he wanted to help.

"I'd be happy to go over there with you. We still have all summer. We can conduct our surveillance together." He smiled.

Oh Gods, she couldn't cry in front of this man. She got up and walked away and pretended to be looking at the wildflowers. Thank Gods he respected her need for a little space. He seemed to understand that much. After about ten minutes she came back and they picked up their gear and continued walking down the trail. Eventually, they came to a small crystal clear lake. Arya was sweating. They hadn't come across a single other person.

"Sandor, do you think it would be alright to swim?"

His head quickly jerked up. "Probably not."

"Why?"

"The water is going to be really cold."

"Is that all? I'm from the North."

She dropped her camouflage vest with a thud. She took off her shoulder holster and then pulled off her shirt. She sat down on a rock and took off her shoes and socks. She stood back up and removed her shorts. She had on a black cotton camisole and matching bikini style undies. She turned to look at him. She looked him up and down. "Are you coming?"

Sandor's pulse quickened. He could see her nipples. He very much wanted to put his hands on her She looked small and delicate but at the same time she looked strong and fit. He noticed a few more scars that he hadn't seen before. Sandor stripped down to his boxers and then Arya thought she might die. His shoulders and arms were very well defined but not ridiculously so. His chest was massive. He had definitively sculpted abs. He wasn't quite as hairy as she thought he might be. He had many, many scars. They didn't bother her. The rest of him sure did. She tried hard not to let it show.

They only stayed in the water a few minutes. It really was too cold. They didn't get their hair wet. It did definitely cool them off. Arya was shrieking and laughing as Sandor pretended he was going to pick her up and toss her back in. They used Sandor's blanket to dry off and then he spread it out on the ground. Arya said she was going to take off her wet underclothes. She made him promise not to look as she peeled them off and put her T-shirt and shorts back on. Sandor just lay down on the blanket in his wet boxers. She lay beside him. The sun quickly warmed them back up again.

"I'm sure you know self-defence and take down techniques, working for the Baratheons and all." Arya said.

He nodded.

"Where did you learn them, in the military?"

"Yes, I was Special Forces." He thought about what she had said. "Would you like a few pointers?"

"Actually, I already know someone who could kill you with his little finger." Arya mused.

"Really, who?"

"It's not important." Arya continued, "I bet I would probably do alright at self-defense."

He turned to look at her and laughed. 

"What? I know I'm short but I'm strong."

"It's not just that, you probably weigh less than a poodle soaking wet." Sandor reflected. "You do have very nice muscle tone. You must have worked out plenty to get that."

"Uh, gee, thanks. I think." Arya frowned.

"You really are too light and small."

"Oh, really? Try to pin me. I bet I can get away." Arya challenged.

"Are you crazy? I don't want to hurt you. We're a long way from a hospital."

"Just be careful, then." She prodded.

"No."

"What? Are you afraid of a girl?"

He rolled over at the challenge. "You asked for it."

He gingerly got on top of her and pinned her arms and legs down. "OK, try to get loose."

She squirmed and thrashed around. He didn't move. He weighed a shit-ton and his arms and legs were like bands of steel. She continued to pant and buck around. A light sheen of sweat was forming on her forehead. Sandor was getting slightly aroused. She began cursing him and bucked around some more. He was smiling right in her face.

Arya was breathing heavily. She licked her lips. Sandor watched her tongue and his smile slipped a little. "Sandor," she called out breathlessly. "I want . . . I want to touch you now." She bit her bottom lip and held it in her teeth.

His smile had disappeared completely. His breathing became irregular. He watched as her eyes became heavy lidded and she gave the slightest moan. He released her wrist and she quickly found his erection. First, she palmed him from the outside of his boxers and she moaned even louder. She then moved her hand inside his boxers. Sandor dropped his head to her shoulder and tried to get control over himself.

"Sandor, take off these wet clothes. Lay down."

He got off her and lay back down beside her on the blanket. She got on her knees between his legs and gripped his boxers and she moved back as she pulled them down his legs and then completely off. He was laid out totally naked and aroused before her. She knelt at his feet staring at him. He looked like a god. An absolute god.

"Close your eyes, Sandor." She whispered. He closed his eyes and the next thing he knew he felt a wet slap on his face. His eyes flew open and something was covering his head. He sat up and took it off. It was his boxers. Arya must have thrown them and they landed on his face. He looked at her.

Arya was still kneeling at his feet. She smiled. "I win."

Sandor was speechless for what seemed like a full minute.

"That's it!" He roared. He leapt up towards her and she fell on her butt as she tried to scramble backwards. He snatched her up like a rag doll and forced her face down across his thighs. He yanked her shorts down until her bare ass was exposed. "You're going to get it now!" His huge hand came down across her pert, pale behind with a very loud thwack. "Daddy wasn't joking about that spanking."

"Sandor! Stop!" Arya screamed. "Stop!"

Sandor thought she sounded pretty upset but she could have been tricking him again. "Are you all right?" He asked a lot more gently.

"I'm . . . " She couldn't seem to catch her breath. "Are you serious!"

"Oh, Girl, I'm not really going to hurt you." He patted her behind.

"You better not." She narrowed her grey eyes dangerously.

"I won't." He smiled sheepishly.

"Oh."

"Now, what do you have to say for yourself, little girl?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy?"

Gods! That pleased him a lot more than he would ever admit.

Since Sandor was stark naked, he tried to get Arya interested in his, as she had so charmingly called it, great big stupid dick but she was having none of it.

"You can just go jump back in that icy cold lake." She laughed. "That should cool you off."

"Very funny." Sandor found his shorts and shirt and put them back on. "I thought you liked me with my pants off."

Arya shrugged her shoulders. "Eh, I can take it or leave it."

"What!"

"Be quiet, can't you see I"m trying to take a little nap here?" Arya was curled up on her side on the blanket. She had brought her vest and her holstered weapon and put them beside her. Her hand rested on her gun.

Sandor lay down behind her and put his big arm around her and pulled her into his chest. Sandor put his hand over hers and pulled it off her weapon. "It's alright, Arya. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."

Arya swallowed hard. He had never once asked her what was wrong but he obviously knew something wasn't right. It wasn't long before she was able to relax in his embrace. Being embraced by Sandor was better than the thickest, softest fur imaginable. He warmed her from the inside out. She was able to let down her guard for once and she soon was fast asleep.

By the time they got back to King's Landing, it was almost dark. They were both pretty exhausted so they just called it a night. Sandor walked Arya to her door and came inside long enough to give her a very thorough kiss. Later, as he was drifting off to sleep in his own bed, he smiled. Arya Stark was something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	8. Daddy

A couple of days later Sandor arrived at Arya's with a bottle of Dornish red. They were going to spend the evening watching movies. Arya made them a wonderful ravioli dish with garlic toast and a Greek salad with a strawberry panna cotta for dessert. 

Sandor pushed away from the table. "Gods, Arya! We are going to have to start jogging regularly if we are going to be eating like this."

"You mean you will. I didn't eat nearly as much as you did." She laughed.

"You would let me jog all by myself?"

"No, I guess not." She sighed.

"Hey, it is your fault, you know."

"How is it my fault?" She protested.

"If you weren't such a good cook, I wouldn't have to eat all of your cooking."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Seriously, I'd like to take you out to dinner next time."

"Really? Why?"

"What do you mean, why? To show you my appreciation plus it's way past my turn to treat you."

"Oh, OK."

"Besides, I'd like to see you in a dress."

"A dress!"

"Yes, a dress; a little slip of satiny material that shimmers while you move."

Arya's dark eyebrows shot up into the stratosphere. "What?"

"Don't you have anything like that?"

"Uh, I hate to break it to you but no I don't."

He gave her a look. "Well, I want a dress." Sandor pouted.

"Well, you can try and find one but I don't think they will have any in your size." Arya joked.

"Ha Ha Ha."

They cleaned the kitchen and then sat down to watch a movie. They started to argue almost immediately. Arya wanted to have a horror movie marathon while Sandor wanted to watch "classic" movies.

"Some of my horror movies are classics!" Arya protested.

"No, it's not the same thing." Sandor lectured.

Arya snatched the remote from Sandor and jumped back on her end of the sofa and tried to stuff it down the sofa cushion behind her to keep it away from him. Sandor charged at her and jumped on her cushion with her and tried to wrestle the remote away from her. They were laughing and carrying on when there was a loud thud and the bottom of the sofa gave way and they both fell downward. Sandor exclaimed as he stood up and pulled Arya up after he partially landed on top of her.

"Are you alright?" Sandor looked her over for injuries.

"I'm just slightly flattened, thank you. How much do you weigh, anyway?"

"I don't weigh much more than your average heavyweight boxing champion of the world." Sandor announced with some pride. "Uh, sorry about your sofa."

"We'll probably have to shoot it now." Arya shook her head.

"Yes, we should put it out of its misery." Sandor agreed. "In the meantime, you'll just have to sit in the middle next to me on my end."

Arya scrambled over and dived into Sandor's seat. "No," she laughed, "You can sit in the middle."

"You don't play fair, do you?" Sandor sighed.

"Where's the fun it that?" Arya smiled.

They settled for a movie called Arsenic and Old Lace. It was both a classic and a horror movie. It was from the 1940's and it starred Cary Grant. That was the only reason Sandor got his way. Her mother used to be quite fond of Cary and Arya was familiar with his movies. Arya didn't tell Sandor but she thought Cary Grant was the best looking man that had ever lived. Well, she used to think that until quite recently, anyway.

Arya had been thinking about what she could wear out to dinner with Sandor. She really didn't have anything. While she had been away from home since shortly after her mother and Robb had been killed five years ago, she had barely had a need for dresses. She did have an old skirt that really didn't fit her any longer.

After the movie was over she went into her bedroom and dug it out of her closet and put it on. It was way too short and flouncy. She must have grown more than she'd thought even though she was still pretty short. She decided to be naughty and show it to Sandor anyway. She slipped off her undies too. She could twirl around and shock the hell out of him and then run away.

"Sandor!" She called from her bedroom.

"What?"

"I couldn't find a dress but I found a skirt! Do you want to see it?" She called.

"Sure!"

She skipped into the living room and stood near the sofa. Sandor had taken her seat. She seemed to have his full attention. She was suddenly too shy to twirl around and tease him.

"Come closer." Sandor beckoned.

Arya resisted a moment and then moved next to Sandor's leg. Sandor very carefully eyed her from her feet up to her face.

"What's the meaning of this, little girl? You can't go out in public like that." He said sternly.

"Uh," Arya was caught off guard.

"Come sit on Daddy's lap and he'll explain it to you." Sandor smiled teasingly as he took her hand and positioned her onto his lap.

"How's that, little girl? Are you comfortable?" He asked pleasantly.

"Yes, Daddy."

Sandor had his arm around her waist with his hands clasped together. "Now little girl, you can't go around in a skirt like that in public. Do you know why?"

"No, Daddy."

"It's too short."

"But, Daddy . . ."

"It might give bad men the wrong idea."

"What do you mean, Daddy?"

"You see, little girl, bad men might be tempted."

"Tempted?"

"Yes, they might see your pretty little knee and want to touch it."

"Touch my knee?"

"Yes, touch it."

"Like how, Daddy?"

"Like this." Sandor unclasped his hands and put his huge hand on her knee.

"Oh."

"They might get other ideas, too."

"Other ideas?"

"Yes, they might see your pretty little thigh and want to touch it too."

"Touch my thigh?"

"Yes, like this." Sandor ran his hand up under her skirt and onto her inner thigh.

"Daddy! It's hard to believe they would do such a thing!"

"Believe me, little girl, they would do that and more."

"More?"

Sandor was watching her very intently. She could see his pulse jumping in his throat. He was almost holding his breath.

"What else might they do, Daddy?"

"They might want to touch your little panties, like this." He slowly pushed his hand up further and he inhaled sharply when he found she had no panties.

Sandor began to tremble. "Arya?"

Arya opened her legs wider. "It's alright, Sandor." Arya put her arms around his neck and leaned over and kissed him. 

Arya kissed him softly and Sandor responded in kind. Sandor was tembling. His emotions were overwhelming him. He had never had a woman this sweet. A woman he had feelings for. He couldn't believe such a beautiful, willing woman sat on his lap with her legs spread open for him. It was almost too much. He began to gently explore her with his fingers. He touched her clit and Arya moaned into his mouth. A thrill ran through him. He touched her again and she moaned louder. He began to kiss her more and more aggressively with his tongue taking charge over hers. He continued to use lots of tongue on her sweet, sweet mouth.

At some point, Arya wrapped her hands into his hair and pulled away from his mouth. She began to lick his lips and then began nipping along under his jawline. Sandor tipped his head back to give her access to his throat. Arya licked and sucked his thick, muscular neck. Sandor ran his fingers through Arya's tender folds. He couldn't believe she was already wet for him. He pushed the tip of his finger inside of her. Arya began to move against it as if she wanted more. A surge of excitement coursed through him. He wriggled his finger in a little further and Arya gasped against his ear. She reached underneath the collar of his shirt and raked her fingernails on his shoulders. He pushed in even further and her mouth came back to his and she began to kiss him forcefully and suck on his tongue.

Sandor began to push in and out of Arya and she rolled her hips forward to meet him. Sandor became incredibly aroused by her responses and began to pump his fingers into her with deliberation. "Arya, pull your skirt up. I want to see." He whispered. Arya reached down and pulled back the flouncy skirt and exposed herself. They both watched as he fingered her.

"Fuck! You feel so good." Sandor breathed. "How does it feel?"

"Sandor, you don't have normal size fingers." She gasped.

Sandor slowed down. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to stop, either. He wanted to enjoy the sight of his finger slowly fucking into her. After she'd gotten accustomed to the size of him, Arya grew impatient. "Faster, I want you to go faster." She urged.

Sandor obliged and then began to use his thumb to stimulate her clit.

"Ahhhh!" Arya cried.

"You like that?" Sandor began to manipulate her clit more and Arya once again responded by attacking his mouth. Their teeth clashed together as they fought for dominance. Arya could hardly stand it because she wanted to suck on his tongue so badly.

"Arya, let me put another finger inside of you." He pleaded desperately.

"Are you sure that's possible?"

"I'll go slowly, I promise. I'll ease it in. It feels so good. Please, Arya." Sandor begged.

"Be careful." Arya assented.

Sandor couldn't get enough of her hot, wet sex. He fingered her over and over and over again. His fingers were so big even one was too much but he worked her and worked her until he had in two. His thumb pressed and circled and rolled her clit until Arya was gasping for air. His mouth and his tongue and his lips were relentless. He tried to position her so he could use his mouth on her sex but she resisted. He left it but after awhile he tried again.

"No, Sandor, I'm not ready for that."

He nodded. At first she had squirmed on his two fingers but once she'd adjusted to the size she was eagerly meeting his thrusts. He couldn't help but watch her taking in his fingers. He loved the expression on her face. Sandor experimented more with Arya's clit until he found what pleased her the most. Arya responded by pushing up his shirt and pinching and licking his nipples and scratching down his chest with her nails. She sucked on the pulse point on his throat and wherever else she could get to his skin.

Sandor was almost out of his mind with pleasure. Arya's bottom had been stimulating his cock as she moved and squirmed on his lap but a large part of it was how it made him feel to make Arya moan and writhe. "Arya, I love your body. I love how you feel. Oh, Girl." He curled his two fingers inside her and massaged her pleasure point repeatedly. "Will you come for me?"

"I . . . don't know."

"Girl, you are the hottest, sweetest, most wonderful thing I've ever seen. You can't imagine what you are doing to me. I want to lick you. I want to suck you. I want to taste you. You're so juicy. You are so juicy and ripe for fucking. I want to put my big cock inside you and pump you until you scream. I want to fuck you so hard. You're so beautiful, please let me lick you . . . I want to--"

  
Sandor!" she shrieked. "Sandor!" Arya's muscles clenched and she gushed over his hand. Sandor was stunned. No woman had done that for him before. Arya's muscles continued to contract uncontrollably on his fingers and she screamed and thrashed around. Sandor continued to pump her until she collapsed in a hot mess.

Sandor pulled her boneless body to his chest. He kissed Arya's forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose and lips. He was holding her very tightly. Sandor had only been with hard, cold women he picked up for depressing one night stands. He had never had a girlfriend before. He had never experienced anything close to as good as this. He had only had the kind of women he thought he deserved. He didn't know it could be like this.

"What was that, Sandor?" Arya breathed.

Sandor had never had a woman come like that. He remembered long ago when he was a young man that he'd tried hard to please women. One of the first ones had flat out laughed at his inexperienced fumbling. She had just pulled away from him and told him he should stick to hard fucking. So he had. He'd only done that for a long time. He had not liked being humiliated. The hard fucking seemed to please them. He knew he could do that well enough.

Over time, he had tried again and again until he'd gotten better at other things but even when he could please them physically; they still hadn't cared for him. They almost always wanted it in the dark. They didn't want to see his face in the light. They didn't want him as a person. They didn't want to get to know him. He wasn't sure if it was his face or it was just him. He had become disillusioned and bitter. At some point, he had stopped caring enough about the women to make an effort, anyway. He'd just go home with one, selfishly achieve his own release and be on his way.

Arya had been different from the beginning. She hadn't seen anything wrong with him. She wanted to know him. She treated him like a person. She always looked him right in the face. She'd even once told him he wasn't ugly. Seeing Arya receive pleasure from him had given him extreme pleasure too. She'd given him more pleasure than he'd ever had before and she hadn't even sucked him. The pleasure she gave him was more than just the physical.

"Sandor?"

"You had an orgasm, Girl. A very fine orgasm."

"I never had one like that before." she continued, "the one's I've given myself weren't even anything close to that."

Sandor froze. She'd been awfully tight. "Have you never had sex before, Arya?" He held his breath.

"I've had sex before. I just hadn't . . . well, I've only orgasmed by myself."

"Oh." He felt relief that he wasn't a defiler of virgins but at the same time he was ridiculously hurt. Sandor thought about the poor, stupid teenage boyfriends she must have had. So stupid or inexperienced they hadn't even known to satisfy her or so selfish they hadn't even cared to. Sandor was ashamed of them. He was also ashamed of some of his past behavior towards women.

"I mean, that's the first time . . ." Her face grew red with embarrassment.

"The first time for what?"

Arya clasped his hand and held it up.

It took him a moment to understand what she meant. Sandor tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He'd been the first to get his fingers into he. He'd been the first man to bring her to orgasm. Sandor felt powerful and triumphant but it didn't last. His mood suddenly shifted. His heart began to pound very fast. She made him afraid. He was afraid of his feelings for her. He was afraid he'd done the wrong thing. He was afraid because when he was around her he lost his resolve to be careful and all of his self-control. He could _not_ keep away from her.

"Arya, did you want me to do that?" He asked anxiously.

She touched his arm. "I wanted you to. I trust you. I just didn't know it would be quite so intense until it was happening." She gave a short laugh.

"You trust me?" Sandor asked softly.

"Yes." Arya smiled.

Sandor gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Seriously? Is that all you have for me?" She complained.

He leaned down and gave her a better kiss on her lips.

"Now it's time for me to take care of you, Sandor." She announced as she tried to sit up.

Sandor pushed her back down against his chest. "No, I'm fine. I think we did enough for one evening, don't you?" He liked holding her and besides, his emotions were all over the place.

"But I want to touch you." She looked at him with her big, grey eyes and they sparked something in him. He kissed her and they lost themselves in passionate kissing while Arya fondled him. 

She unbuttoned his shorts and drew down his zipper and fit her hand inside his boxers. After awhile she sensed that he needed more. She got off of his lap. She pulled his shorts and boxers down and over his legs until he was naked from the waist down. She got back onto his lap and eased herself forward until she was grinding herself on his cock while she took his face in her hands and kissed him wildly with abandon. Sandor responded to the feel of her nakedness on his own by cupping her ass and pushing and pulling her forward and backward frantically on his thighs and crashing her into his throbbing cock over and over again in desperation while simulating sex. Arya moaned loudly at the sensation every time they crashed together.

"I'm going to come." He gasped as he pulled away from her mouth and tried to push her back.

Arya was having none of that. She pushed herself forward against him and ground herself on his cock furiously. "Go ahead, do it!"

That did it. Sandor shuddered and exclaimed as he let himself come under her skirt and all over the both of them. He hugged her tightly to him.

Arya collapsed against him for the second time that night. He was incredible. If she had any regrets, it was that she hadn't gone further than she had. She wondered if it would even be possible to get all of him inside of her. She knew she would damn sure try the next time if she was given the opportunity.

"Arya, I'm sorry. Is there going to be a problem here?"

"Hmm?"

"I didn't come in you but it's all over you."

It finally penetrated into her pleasure filled brain what he was trying to ask. "No, it's alright. I'm on birth control."

Sandor couldn't believe how reckless he'd been. He'd always used a condom before. He had a hard time thinking rationally when Arya got him going. He just wanted to give in and not think at all.

Sandor left shortly thereafter. He drove back to his room at the Baratheon estate and crawled into bed. He felt very lonely. He had wanted nothing more than to get into Arya's bed and stay the night beside her and wake up with her in the morning. Of course, she hadn't asked him to stay so that was a problem. He had to remember she was a young woman and he had to be extra careful not to overwhelm her and frighten her away. He was afraid maybe he already had. Really, what right did he have to touch her? What right did he have to force his needs onto her? He was in no way, shape or form good enough for Arya Stark. He wasn't even close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	9. Win, Place or Show

Arya had _plans._ She decided she was going to ride Sandor Clegane like a Thoroughbred stallion the next time she saw him. She already had sex that one time about a year ago. It had been fairly easy. She could do it again. Sandor wasn't that big. She could take him. Who was she kidding? This wasn't going to be easy at all. He was enormous. What was that old quote? _If at first you don't succeed, try, try, again?_ Whatever. She could do it. She would do it.

Arya called Sandor on his lunch break. "Sandor, someone came in the diner and asked if they could put up a flyer for the upcoming Kingslayer Annual 3-Gun Shooting Competition. I thought you might be interested in going."

"Why would you think that?"

"You're former Special Forces. Duh! I was sure you'd want to go."

"Well, I don't know. When is it?"

"I know it's short notice but it's on Saturday morning."

"That's not my day off."

She sounded disappointed. "Oh, well. That's alright then."

"How about we go to a movie or something on my day off." He knew that sounded lame as soon as he said it.

"Oh, sure, I have to get back to work now, Sandor."

"We don't have to go to a movie, Arya. You think of something you really want to do."

"Yeah, OK."

"I'll call you this evening when you get off work, alright?" Sandor said.

"OK."

Sandor was just about to hang up when he heard Arya say something else. "What? Could you repeat that last bit?"

"Oh, I just said you wouldn't mind if I went to the competition without you, would you?"

Sandor was surprised. Not only that, he got an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

"Sandor, are you still there?"

"Yeah, let me call you back pretty soon. I'll see if I can get the day off."

"You don't have to do that if it's going to cause you a problem." Arya said.

"No, I'll call you soon. Bye."

"Goodbye, Sandor."

Sandor got two days off a week but he had to give one up and trade with his idiot co-worker, Boros Blount, in order to get Saturday off. He wasn't very happy about it but he had a feeling and he wasn't going to ignore it. That "feeling" kept him alive more than once and he knew to listen to it.

They had decided he would take Arya out to dinner on Saturday night after the shooting competition. He had asked to see her tonight just because he missed her but he hadn't told her that was the reason. He arrived at Arya's diner to pick her up. He went inside and waited while Arya was in the back finishing something up. Sandor noticed the shooting competition flyer taped up by the cash register and started to read it. The dumpy cook, Hot Pie, came out of the kitchen to give Sandor the once over again.

"Are you going to compete?" Hot Pie asked.

"What me? No." Sandor shook his head.

"You look like former military. I thought Arry might be going to watch you shoot."

"No, competition shooting is not really my thing." Sandor shrugged.

"Oh, well Arry seemed pretty enthused the other day when she came in with that flyer and taped it up."

Sandor paused. "Arry brought it in or someone gave it to her to put up?"

"Arry brought it in. She took it out of that backpack of hers and showed it to me."

Sandor didn't say anything else. He was too busy thinking. After awhile Arya came out and told Hot Pie goodnight and then they left. They went over to Arya's apartment and she took a shower. Afterwards, she made cockles and mussels in a flavorful butter sauce over rice.

They sat at the table and began to eat. "This is nice, Arya, I've never had it before. Is it foreign?" 

"It's Braavosi."

"You eat a lot of Braavosi food at Winterfell, do you?"

Arya looked up at him and smiled. "Not really."

They were sitting on the good end of the broken sofa. They were watching a program about medieval warfare on the History Channel. Sandor jumped when he felt Arya's hand on his thigh. 

"Whoa, there, horsie. I just wanted to pet you a little bit." She teased.

Sandor laughed.

"You sure are jumpy, you probably just need to be taken out and ridden more."

"Are you going to ride me?" He asked as he raised his eyebrow.

"I might not mind giving you a rubdown."

He looked at her. "Are you sure?"

"What? It's just a little rubdown. Take your shirt off, Sandor."

Sandor moved forward to the edge of the sofa. Arya conveniently produced some massage oil and she got up on her knees behind him and slowly rubbed his thick neck and massive back. Eventually, she worked her hands around to his chest and abdomen. Her hands went lower and lower. Sandor had lost track of the TV program long ago. He wasn't thinking very well at all. All he could feel was Arya's hands all over him.

Arya got up to put some popcorn in the microwave. She was waiting for the popcorn while she was standing behind the sofa while leaning forward watching the end of the TV program. Sandor got up and she thought he must be going to the kitchen too as he walked behind her and out of her sight. She was wrong. He didn't go to the kitchen. The first she realized he was behind her was when he pushed her forward over the back of the sofa with his hand at the center of her back. Her feet left the floor and her ass was up in the air as she grabbed the sofa to get her balance. Before she could understand what was happening, Sandor's hand and hips were pinning her in place as he rubbed his his erection on her ass.

"Can you feel what you've done, Girl? I think you've teased me long enough. What I want to know is what you're going to do about it?" He continued to rub himself against her. Arya was struck speechless. She'd never seen this side of him before. It was scary but at the same time it was thrilling. The microwave beeped.

"This is what you're going to do. You're going to bring me some popcorn and when you come back, you are going to be naked from the waist down. I'll be waiting on the sofa and you are going to sit right down on my lap without saying a word. Do you understand?"

"I . . " Arya was shocked but excited.

"The word you are looking for is yes. Now say it."

"Yes?"

"Good Girl." He pulled her back to her feet and released her.

Arya went into the kitchen without looking at him. She put the popcorn in a bowl and slipped out of her shorts and underwear. She went into the living room and stood before him and then hesitated. He sat forward and turned her around and eased her onto his lap with her back to his chest. He was completely naked. 

"This is more like it, Girl." He rested his hands on her thighs. He rubbed his face on the back of her neck. The stubble from his beard scratched her lightly. "Mmm. this is nice." He slowly ran his hands up her arms until he came near her breasts. She let out a puff of air as he delicately touched them with each of his hands. He softly cupped them and then he used his thumb to tease at her nipples. Arya could feel her pulse racing. 

Sandor continued to lightly squeeze her breasts as he kissed her neck. He pinched her nipple and Arya involuntarily gasped. He seemed to take that as encouragement and pinched the other one. Arya couldn't help herself, she arched back into him. 

"You like that, do you?" He whispered in her ear. Sandor reached down to take off her T-shirt. Arya pushed his hands away and removed it herself. She was wearing a cotton camisole underneath and she left it on. Sandor continued to kiss her neck. He nipped her tenderly and swirled his tongue over her. Arya tipped her head to the side to give him more access. She felt hot with excitement. His hands slipped down the front of her camisole and he gently squeezed and rubbed her nipples between his fingers.

"Mmm." Arya moaned.

"That's right, Girl. Tell me how you like it. Turn around now so I can give you some more personal attention." He pushed her forward and she got off his lap. She sat back down facing him. He pulled her closer against his cock. "Grind yourself on me, like you did before."

Arya slowly did as he asked. He threw his head back and shuddered. "That's enough, for now." He swallowed and pushed her back a little. He put his hands back on her breasts and squeezed them. He leaned forward and his large tongue laved her nipple through the cotton fabric. He glanced back up at her with a naughty look in his eyes while he was mouthing her. His deep brown eyes looked sensual and dangerous. The fabric was getting wet and so was she. 

"Show me your tits, Girl."

Arya pulled her arms out of the straps of her camisole and lowered it to expose her breasts to him. He latched onto her tit and carefully bit down. Arya groaned deeply. Sandor sucked her and teased her with his hands until she was panting. She felt his hand move to her thigh and then his finger was feeling her slick folds. "Oh, you are so wet." He breathed. He kissed her hard as he slid in his finger.

"Sandor." Arya moaned against his lips.

"You feel so good, Girl." He massaged her clit with his thumb as he stroked her. Arya was riding so high she forgot about how big his finger was. She just wanted more. She opened her legs wider and tried to take even more of it in. Sandor quickened his efforts and continued thrusting into her. "You like my finger?" He teased.

"That's so good, Sandor," She cried, "More, Sandor, more."

He gently pushed his other finger in. "How's that?" She was so full and she was breathing hard.

"Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers?"

"Yes! Yes!"

So he did. He watched her writhe on his fingers with her eyes closed and with her head thrown back. He had never been so turned on. But he wasn't through with her yet. He removed his hand from her. Arya's eyes popped open.

"Now, Girl, you're going to do something for me and when I"m satisfied I"ll give you what you want."

"What is it?" Arya asked anxiously.

"I want you to take me in your mouth." Arya stared at him and her mouth fell open. "You'll have to open it wider than that if you want it to fit." He smirked.

Arya got off his lap and he got up. Arya sat back down and scooted to the edge of the sofa cushion but he shook his head. "I'm too tall. Sit on the sofa arm. It'll be easier that way. I won't let you fall." Sandor pushed back the coffee table and then stood in front of her. His huge cock was in his hand and very near her mouth. "Well?" He asked.

Arya gulped. He big grey eyes were wide. Sandor waited.

"Yes?" She peeped.

"Say it. Tell me you want it"

"I would like it." Arya whispered.

"Alright. But only because you asked so nicely." 

This evening had not gone anything like she thought it would. He had really turned the tables on her. She reached out to take hold of him and he groaned _very_ loudly. She gave an exploratory lick. His knees buckled. She tried again and gave him a long, slow lick. He shouted out loud. She had heard men really liked this but hearing someone tell you something and actually experiencing it for yourself wasn't the same thing. He didn't just like it. He _really_ liked it. She wondered if she could do it right.

After Sandor's knees buckled and he'd shouted, he quickly recovered himself. "Suck the tip. Swirl your tongue around like it's an ice cream cone." He directed. Arya followed his instructions.

"Mmm." He gasped. "Lick it. Lick all of it. Yes! Yes! Ahhhh! Now suckle it, Girl. Yeah. That's right. Use your tongue. There you go. Suckle my cockhead. Yes! Mmm. Now take it in deeper. Deeper. That's my Girl." Arya turned her eyes up and was surprised to see him watching her. "That's right, Girl. You look at me. Look at me when you are servicing me. Bob your head up and down. Ahhhh! Ohhhh! You're getting it now."

Even though her hands barely fit around him, she massaged him as she ran her tongue along the big vein on the underside of his length. She was able to find a rhythm and continued bobbing. She wanted to take it all in but she didn't see how that would be possible. She continued to get bolder and bolder and watched his reactions carefully to take her cues from him. He seemed particularly sensitive around the head.

"That's it, Girl!" He groaned. "That's what I like. Yes, I like it. You're doing it just right! Ummm. It's so good. Soooo good! Yes, I like it. You feel so good. Yes. Ohhh!" After awhile, he's stopped talking and just let out a stream of unintelligible noises and moans as he got lost in the pleasure. Finally, Arya could feel him tense. "Arya! I'm not going to last. I can't last. Get back!" Sandor pushed her back as he took over his cock and came into his hands. He tried hard but he hadn't been able to contain it all. Some of it had gotten away from him and sprayed over her shoulder.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh!" He stuttered. His face scrunched up as he went back down on his knees holding onto himself. Arya couldn't take her eyes off him. She couldn't believe she'd done that to him. She had brought a man to his knees. He didn't just like it. He _loved_ it.

She sat back down on the sofa and watched him. He grabbed his shirt and cleaned himself off. He crawled over to her. He was still breathing heavily. He put his hand on her thigh and rested his head on her shoulder. His fingers found her and he did what he promised her he would do all the while repeating her name. "Arya, Arya, Arya."

It wasn't long before she was the one calling out his name.

After they were finished she went into the bathroom and washed up. She swirled around some mouthwash and spit it out. She looked at herself in the mirror. She realized she knew nothing at all about sex. She wasn't sure what she had done before but it didn't feel anything like this. When she came out of the bathroom, Sandor had his boxers back on and he was moving the coffee table back in place. 

Arya went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. She was standing at the sink when Sandor came up behind her and put his arms around her and kissed her on the shoulder. His hands drifted down to the hemline of her camisole and he began to lift it to put his hands on her stomach. Arya pushed back on him roughly and quickly stepped away. "Don't touch me!" She shouted.

Sandor backed away in shock and then his face fell. He turned and went into the living room. Arya was breathing heavily in a panic. When she finally calmed down she went into the living room and Sandor wasn't there. She checked the bathroom and her bedroom. He had left. She looked out the window. His SUV was turning out of her parking lot. She quickly called him.

"I'm sorry, Arya." He said as soon as he answered.

"Let me explain!"

"No, you're right. I had no business doing any of this. This is nothing but a big mistake. We both know it." He hung up.

Arya tried calling him again but he wouldn't answer. Finally, later that evening she left him a voicemail.

_I don't appreciate you saying we are a big mistake, Sandor. That really hurts my feelings. This is embarrassing as hells to admit and don't you ever tell anyone or I will kill you but I liked what happened. I enjoyed it. I really, really enjoyed it. Really! I mean really!_

_I wish you would have let me explain why I got upset. You did nothing wrong. The truth is I've got scars and I didn't want you to see them. When you tried to touch me on my stomach, I knew you would feel them and then I would have to show them to you. I'm sorry. I know it was stupid. Please forgive me. If you really want to see them, I will let you see them._

Sandor lay in his bed that night after listening to Arya's message. He had been so relieved she had not rejected him but he couldn't believe that she had pushed him away. Here he was with half of his face melted off in a way that made small children scream and she was embarrassed to let him see her scars? Did she not understand he was in no position to judge her? Did she not know if anyone would understand it would be him?

So she had some scars, big deal! At least it was in a place where she could cover it and not on her Gods damned face! Sandor texted her. _You should have trusted me not to judge you._

Arya texted him back. _I know. It's not just that. There's more. I haven't been completely honest with you about everything. There are some things I have left out that I think you should know._

Sandor didn't even wait two minutes before returning her text. _I'll see you on Saturday_ _._ What he didn't say was he already knew she was tricky and keeping secrets but at least she was willing to come clean now. He supposed that was the important thing. Besides, his body craved her like he couldn't believe. He really, really, really enjoyed her too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya's left out a few things? What? And who ate the popcorn? I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	10. Aim and Squeeze

He picked up Arya early on Saturday morning. She was adamant that she wanted to get to the Kingslayer Competition in plenty of time before it started. They arrived early enough that there wasn’t a huge line yet. Sandor had read on the flyer that the grand prize was 5000 gold dragons and he knew there would probably be a big turnout.

When it was their turn at the counter to buy tickets, Arya spoke up before Sandor could say anything. “One ticket please, plus one to sign in for the competition.”

He knew she was up to something! He had just known it! Sandor fumed.

The clerk pushed the sign in sheet towards Sandor. “Have you pre-registered, Ser?”

Arya reached over and took the sheet. “Yes, I have.” She answered.

“Are you competing?” The clerk asked her as he stared at her over the top of his glasses.

“Yes.”

“Your name, please?”

“Arry, Arry Sparks.”

“I need to see some ID. You know you have to be over 21, right?”

Arya took “Arry Sparks” ID card out of her pocket and tossed it on the counter. “I’m 21.”

Sandor did a mental head slap. How did he let this happen? Arya’s phony ID appeared to check out and the clerk gave her a number to be pinned to her back. He handed Sandor his ticket after Sandor had paid for it. He helped Arya with her number while the clerk observed them.

As they walked through the doorway Arya turned to Sandor. “What?” She shrugged. “Mama needs a new sofa.”

As soon as they were out of sight of the clerk, Sandor grabbed her arm. “What in the Seven Hells are you doing, Girl? For that much prize money you are going to have the best marksmen in Westeros competing here.”

“Pffft! How hard could it be? Don’t you just have to be able to aim and squeeze?”

By this point, Sandor realized she had been downplaying her skills to him. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t think she had a chance. According to the flyer, the entrance fee was pretty steep and she barely had any money. Sandor tried to remember all that was involved in the competition but that fat cook had interrupted him before he could read the whole flyer. He vaguely recalled that it was a 3-gun competition and the shooter who hit the most targets and avoided the “no hit” targets in the least amount of time won. It really made him wonder about sweet little Lady Arya Stark.

Arya led Sandor back to the gun lockers where she produced a key and began pulling out weapons. She took out a .223 caliber, 18 inch short barrel with a 30 round magazine AR-15 Modern Sporting Rifle. She examined it and locked it back in its case. Next she pulled out a 20-gauge auto-reloading shotgun, examined it and then locked it back in its case. She also pulled out a belt for extra magazines and ammo and eye and ear protection. She already had her Ruger LC9s pistol with her under her camouflage vest.

“Are these yours?” Sandor whistled.

“Yes, I brought them here earlier this week.”

“Why?” He asked

"I wasn’t sure you would be here to give me a ride. Besides, I didn’t want you to see them.” She gave him a challenging look.

Arya took one of her weapons and made Sandor carry the other and deposited them in the staging area. They stood by as more and more people arrived. Sandor overheard someone say there were 25 contestants. Eventually, the stands became super crowded and Arya left Sandor to go back down to the staging area. The order of the competition was the AR-15 MSR first with a 100 yard line range, the shotgun was second using clay pigeons as targets and the pistol was last with steel silhouettes.

After the first contestant began, Sandor realized the course involved different stages and the shooters had to engage in a variety of different positions that required the shooter to reload and transition among stages. Sandor was unhappy to realize his co-worker, Meryn Trant, was competing. He hoped he didn’t see Arya. He wanted that pervert nowhere near her. He remembered how Trant had used to look at Arya’s sister, Sansa. He didn’t remember him leering at Arya in the past. Although, he did remember how Arya had sassed Trant more than once.

It was a long day. Arya was almost the last contestant. No one had shot perfectly; no one until Arry Sparks. Sandor was flabbergasted at her proficiency and the ease in which she used her weapons. She moved through the stages as if she was a perfectly choreographed dancer. She reloaded with precision and grace. She never fumbled her ammo once. She made everyone else look like an amateur. As a matter of fact, she looked as if she was a highly trained professional. Sandor clenched his jaw. Yes, she had some explaining to do. He’d been Special Forces. He knew no one did that well without years of training.

She finished in record time. She blew everyone else out of the water. In a grandstand move at the very end she had asked for a rubber dummie at the end of the course. She reached in her ever present camouflage vest and threw two throwing knives and 5 throwing stars or _shuriken_. She had moved so fast she was a blur but Sandor knew what she’d done because the evidence was in the dummie.

One knife was in the jugular vein in the throat, one knife was in the heart, one star was imbedded in each of the eyes, one star was imbedded in the nose, one star was imbedded in the CCV artery in the throat and one star was imbedded in the groin of the rubber dummie. He finally knew what was under that damn vest.

A large cheer went up from the crowd. Sandor rushed down to the staging area to get a closer look. Arya was removing her weaponry from the dummie. She skipped toward Sandor and reached up and pulled him down to her mouth and gave him a big kiss. Of course, Meryn Trant was standing nearby and was giving Arya a dirty look. Trant’s face was twisted up in a scowl. He scowled at Sandor as well. Arya put her AR-15 and her shotgun away in their cases and they waited for the competition to conclude.

Arya tucked the 5000 gold dragon check into a pocket in her camouflage vest. Everyone was clapping her on her back and congratulating her, cheering and slapping her high fives. Sandor wanted to get her out of there as soon as possible before Meryn Trant realized who she was. Arya wanted to take her weapons home so Sandor loaded them into his SUV. Arya was still talking excitedly with her fans in the parking lot.

“We should go, Arya.” Sandor urged.

“Hold your horses!” Arya quirked her dark eyebrow. “My Little Pony!” She laughed.

What the fuck! My Little Pony! Sandor realized he could happily throttle her without a second thought.

They were finally on their way home when Sandor laid into her. “Meryn Trant was there!”

“Yeah, I saw that big jerk. I beat him bad!” Arya chortled.

“Arya, it probably wouldn’t be good for me if he recognized you.”

“Why? What difference does it make?”

“He might tell someone.”

“Tell someone what?”

“That you and I are together.”

“Like who?” Arya didn’t understand.

“Like Tywin Fucking Lannister, that’s who. He wouldn’t approve of us.”

“So, tell him to fuck off. It’s none of his business who your friends are.”

Sandor paused. Friends? She thought of him as her “friend”? Sandor tried again. “He wouldn’t approve, Arya. He would tell me to stop seeing you.”

She turned to look at him. “Would you?”

“Would I stop seeing you?” Sandor paused. He paused a little too long.

“Oh, I see.” She snapped. “You can just drop me at my apartment then. I can go out to dinner without you. I wouldn’t want you to be seen with me.”

“Arya!”

“I can wear my new satiny, shimmering dress for someone else!”

“You got a new dress? But wait, how did you pay for it?”

“Don’t try to change the subject!” Arya shouted.

“Don’t you try to distract me with satiny, shimmering dresses either. You, my dear Girl, have some major explaining to do!”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She said tartly.

“How you haven’t been completely honest and may have left some things out? Does that ring a bell? Or maybe you can explain how you shoot better that I do.”

“Let’s enjoy our dinner first and we’ll talk afterwards, all right?” Arya grumbled.

They went to Arya’s and lugged her weapons upstairs. She took a shower because after all, being a badass is sweaty work. Sandor took a shower as well. He put on dark suit and tie. Arya was still running around in a towel and Sandor was starting to get distracted. He knew this could be a potential problem because when Arya distracted him, naughty things tended to happen and they had a reservation. Besides, he didn’t want to be distracted until she told him a few things he thought he had a right to know.

Sandor waited on the broken couch until Arya finally came out of her bedroom. Sandor stood and looked at her dumbly. He was suddenly shy around such a beautiful woman. Arya was wearing a short jade green satin dress with spaghetti straps. She looked gorgeous. Her body was perfectly toned and she was glowing. Sandor wondered if she was wearing a bra. He could see her nipples through the material and he suddenly had an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch them. She had on strappy high heeled silver sandals and her legs looked phenomenal. She’d curled her hair too and her fingernails and toenails were polished. Sandor wanted to take her over to the sofa and set her on his lap for some happy fun times and forget about dinner.

“Well, do I look all right?” Arya asked sounding concerned.

“You look perfect.” Sandor breathed.

Arya gave him a cheeky smile. “You look very good in black, Sandor. Black is your color. It makes you look sexy.”

“I can’t be nearly as sexy as you.” He said in earnest.

Sandor gave a wolf-whistle. Arya blushed like crazy.

They started down the stairs. “I can’t believe you’re not wearing your camouflage vest over that dress.” Sandor joked.

“Don’t worry my Ruger is in my handbag.”

“Do I want to know where the rest of your weapons are?”

“Probably not.” She winked.

They had a lovely dinner at the upscale restaurant, the Red Woman. If people stared at Sandor and his disfigured face he didn’t notice. He only had eyes for Arya Stark. After dinner they stopped in the restaurant bar to have a drink. A few people had been at the shooting competition earlier and recognized Arya. They gathered around her and tried to buy her drinks. Sandor was careful to stay by her side. They were standing near the bar and were about ready to leave.

“A lovely girl did well today.” Someone said in a low, teasing voice.

Arya whirled around quickly in a defensive posture as her hand reached into her handbag at the same time.

“Although, a lovely girl still has an unfortunate tendency to show off.” The teasing man continued.

Sandor went on high alert. Arya was spooked as fuck. A good looking man in an extremely expensive suit was casually leaning on the bar. He had shoulder length dark red hair with a white streak on one side of his head. Arya was staring at the man with her mouth open. She quickly snapped it shut. Sandor saw she had her weapon out and it was tucked alongside her handbag, partially hidden.

The man nodded at Sandor. “You must be the Hound.”

Sandor’s first thought was who in the hell was this bastard and how did he know who he was? “I’m Sandor Clegane. Who are you?”

“Oh, a man is insulted,” he looked at Arya. “A lovely girl had never mentioned a man?” The man motioned to himself.

“No, she didn’t.” Sandor growled. “I’ll ask again. Who are you?”

The man looked Sandor square in his eye. “A man,” he paused for dramatic effect, “is her Master.”

Sandor about fell out. He was that shook.

The man continued to speak. “Hmm, a man can see a girl has bound a Hound to herself. And how has she done this thing?” His eyes raked up and down over Arya. The man raised his eyes to Sandor again. “Perhaps a lovely girl did not give herself completely but a girl has traded something. Something that has satisfied a Hound.”

Sandor blinked at his audacity. He was furious. He surged forward in anger intent on taking the “man” apart but Arya was still between them and she used her body to keep Sandor back. It didn’t escape his notice that she wouldn’t turn her back on her “Master”.

“Watch his hands, Sandor.” Arya hissed.

The man casually raised his hands. “A man means a lovely girl no harm.” Then the fucker _smirked_. He smirked in a way that made the hair on the back of Sandor’s neck stand up. He realized that Arya was right. This man was extremely dangerous.

“Were you at the competition today?” Arya narrowed her eyes at the man

“Why of course, lovely girl. A man would not miss it.” He answered. “A man knew a girl would be there.”

“Fuck, he followed me home and then from there to here. He knows where I live.” Arya angrily explained to Sandor.

Sandor wanted to be between Arya and the red-haired fucker. He surged forward again and got partially between the two. The man quit leaning on the bar and stood up to Sandor. He was over six feet and reminded Sandor of a jaguar; sinewy, lithe and deadly. He was looking at Sandor with undisguised disdain.

Apparently, the jaguar was displeased Arya had taken up with him. As Arya touched Sandor’s arm, the jaguar’s eyes flickered and then he clenched his jaw. Sandor understood what was happening now. The jaguar wanted Arya. He wanted Arya and not just as a friend. There was desire burning in his pale blue eyes. Sandor was horrified.

“We’ve nothing left to say to one another, Jaqen.” Arya said stiffly.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, Sandor thought.

“Let us not cause a scene here. A man does have some things left to say. It remains to be seen whether a girl has a response. A man will meet you tomorrow afternoon at your convenience. A man will contact a girl.” Jaqen nodded curtly.

Arya took that as a cue she was dismissed and backed toward the exit. Sandor covered her tactically and glared at Jaqen one last time before following Arya from the bar. As soon as they reached Sandor’s SUV, Arya began to hyperventilate. Sandor wheeled the vehicle quickly away until they were flying down the freeway. Sandor couldn’t believe that just a few short hours ago he thought his biggest problem was Meryn Fucking Trant. Now he knew why she had so many locks on her door.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked.

“Take me home!”

“Are you sure it’s safe? I can take you somewhere else.” He said worriedly.

“He’s not going to make me run. I want to go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-Oh! A certain Lorathi assassin has decided to make an appearance. Yikes! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	11. Focusing on What's Important

As soon as Arya and Sandor arrived back at her apartment she immediately checked her weapons and ammo to make sure they hadn’t been tampered with. Sandor noticed she had a lot more weapons in her closet than clothes. She pulled a fine little small sword out of a scabbard.

“This is Needle.”

It looked like it had been made for a child. Although she was small enough that it still fit her.

“You named your sword?”

“Of course. My father’s sword was named Ice. What’s the name of your long sword?”

“It doesn’t have a name.”

“You must not value it very much. My brother Jon gave me this sword. It’s not a toy. It is capable of killing.” She said darkly. She slipped the sword under her bed.

She began pacing around and talking to herself under her breath. Sandor didn’t know how to help her until she told him what was going on. They went back into the living room and he sat down on the sofa and waited for her to calm down. Eventually, she sat down on the sofa next to him and he put his arm around her and pulled her against his side.

“Oh, Sandor. I messed up. Jaqen was just waiting for me to slip up and give myself away. He found me because I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have gone to the shooting competition.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what in the Seven Hells is going on? Wait. Don’t tell me. Is he the man that could kill me with his little finger?”

“What?”

“You mentioned a man who could kill me with his little finger while we were in the Stormlands.”

She gave Sandor a long look and exhaled. “Uh, yeah, that’s him. His name is Jaqen H’ghar.”

“He said he was your master.” Sandor said accusingly.

“Former master.”

“As in teacher or . . .?”

“Gods! Are you serious! Of course as my teacher.”

“He was never your lover?”

“Are you kidding me? He never once did anything sexually inappropriate.”

“He wants to.” Sandor insisted.

She rolled her eyes. “He was my teacher and now he’s angry at me for basically telling him to fuck off as I left.”

“Most teachers don’t hunt down their students. Most students don’t pull weapons on their teachers in public places, Arya. I think you should start at the beginning.”

She took a deep breath. “Have you ever heard of the Faceless Men?”

No, no, no, no, no, Sandor thought. She can’t be serious.

“I can see that you have.” She said.

“He’s a Faceless Man? But you said he was your teacher.”

Arya just stared at Sandor until he understood.

“You trained to be a Faceless Man?" Sandor asked incredulously.

“I had never heard of them. I didn’t understand what they were. After my mother and brother were killed our family sort of fell apart. Jon and Theon were already away in the Service. The rest of us were separated and sent off to various boarding schools by our Aunt Lysa. I was very angry. I felt powerless and afraid. Someone recommended I train in martial arts to regain a sense of control and safety.

I met Jaqen at a tournament. Apparently, he was there scouting for “recruits”. He said he represented a specialized combination school and martial arts academy in Braavos named the House of the Black and White. He said he could train me. He said he could keep me safe. He said he would help me get what I wanted. I trusted him.

He did some things for me to prove he was my friend. It was only later after I was in deep that I realized what they were really about. They weren’t really just a school and martial arts academy. They are a religious order. They want you to give up yourself. Everything you were or could ever potentially be. You are supposed to become no one; an empty vessel, useful only in giving the gift of death. I thought I could do it. I thought I could do what they wanted. Even though it was extremely difficult and painful at times I thought Jaqen had my best interests at heart. I knew they were deadly. I knew I wasn't safe. I just believed that of everyone there, Jaqen was the one who would never turn on me. I was wrong.”

“Girl!” Sandor cried.”I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it. I trained in every manner possible all the way up until the final test.”

“Which was?”

“Fulfilling a death contract. It seems I couldn’t do it.”

Sandor just stared at her. “No! Arya!” He cried. “So, what did they do?”

“Jaqen sent someone to kill me.”

“And . . .”

“I almost died. It was either her or me. The Many-Faced God was promised a death, it didn’t really matter who. So I gave the Many-Faced God a death. Valar Morghulis.”

Sandor stared at her. “Valar Morghulis?”

“All men must die.”

Sandor closed his eyes and shook his head. “Then what happened?”

“I went back to the Temple and I pointed Needle at Jaqen’s heart and told him I was Arya Stark of Winterfell and I was going home.”

“He just let you go?”

“He did. Until now.”

“How long were you with them?”

“Almost four years.”

“All this time? You’ve been with them since your mother and brother were killed?” Sandor couldn’t imagine it. He didn’t want to imagine it.

“Almost. I left them a year ago. I don’t understand why he let me leave in the first place. I’ve been in hiding all this time. I was worried they’d come after me. I don’t understand what he wants. Why didn’t he kill me? It doesn’t make any sense. He followed us here from the competition. He followed us to the restaurant. He could have killed me a hundred times over by now. He’s the best assassin they have.”

Sandor thought he knew why he didn’t kill her. The world’s deadliest assassin wanted his woman. That was just great. Either Arya was too naive to realize it or she was in denial or she was pretending she didn’t know. None of these options were very appealing to Sandor.

“How did he know who I was?”

Arya shrugged. “It probably wasn’t that hard to figure out. I mean, you’re pretty distinctive looking.”

That was a nice way to put it, Sandor thought. “You said he promised to help you get what you wanted. What was that?”

Arya looked at him. It occurred to her that Sandor didn’t miss much. People underestimated how smart he was because of his brawn and his physical capabilities. He usually kept quiet because he was listening. People mistook his silence for stupidity. He was actually highly intelligent and very shrewd.

Arya ignored his question. She wasn’t quite ready to go there. She got up and paced around some more. At some point, Sandor got up and took her hand and led her back to the sofa. He positioned her on his lap. He hugged her to his chest and calmed her. His hands started to slowly stroke the satiny softness of her jade green dress.

“Mmm.” She murmured.

She untucked herself from under his chin and gave him a kiss. Sandor began to kiss her slowly. He didn’t close his eyes. He wanted to look at her. He wanted to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere. He wanted to make sure she was his. He stroked the satin on her back. Arya touched his hair and his throat. Sandor pulled off his tie. Arya quickly unbuttoned the top three buttons on his shirt so she could kiss him there.

Sandor’s hands slid around to the front of Arya’s dress. He touched her tit. She was not wearing a bra just as he’d suspected. Her tits were poking against the satin and Sandor liked it. He cupped her breast and teased her nipple, pinching it lightly. It made Arya gasp delightfully and Sandor treated the other breast the same. After Sandor had touched and teased her enough he unzipped the back of her dress a little and slipped the spaghetti straps off of her shoulders. Her breasts were exposed and he nuzzled them with the rough stubble of his beard. He licked her nipples and grazed them with his teeth. He began to suck on her breast and Arya moaned and slipped her hands under his suit jacket to run her fingers over his dress shirt and his bulging pecs underneath.

Sandor didn’t neglect her wanting mouth as he lavished his attention between her breasts, throat and lips. His hands continued to fondle her breasts while his mouth was away. Arya was making small sounds of pleasure. Sandor laid her back down across his lap. He moved his hands over the silky satin of her dress and then he put his hand on her thighs. He slid his hand up and down her thighs, lightly caressing them. He slipped his hand up her inner thigh under her dress and was disappointed when he realized she was wearing underwear this time.

“Arya, lift up your dress.”

Arya complied and her tiny lacy green thong was revealed. Her thong made Sandor groan in pleasure. He liked it. He’d never seen one with the lights on before and it turned him on something fierce. He ran his fingers over it, touching it and Arya’s body underneath.

“Take it off, Sandor.” Arya urged.

He gave a throaty growl, “No, I like it.”

Sandor pulled the bottom of her dress back down. He gently turned Arya over across his lap until she was bottom up over his legs. He slowly unzipped her zipper and he pushed the material aside until her skin was exposed. He had one arm underneath her across her chest to support her while he used his other hand to massage her supple skin and the delicate musculature of her back.

The zipper had only reached to her waistline so Sandor had to flip the bottom of the dress up to expose her derriere. Arya’s derriere was solid and muscular from physical training. It was round and pert. It was perfectly framed by her lacy green thong. Sandor was aroused by the sexiness of it. He put his large hand on her cheek and began to fondle her creamy smooth ass. He massaged each cheek slowly and the little patch of thong just above it. He continued to rub the little triangle of thong as he tried to catch his breath.

He turned her back over. He wanted to look at her face. He slipped his hand under her thong and down to Arya’s tender folds and he gently began to touch her. Arya began to move. Sandor enjoyed the way the satin caused her to slide effortless back and forth across his lap.

“Do you want something, Girl?” Sandor rasped.

“Hmm.”

“Do you want me to fuck you with my finger?”

She gasped heavily and finally breathed, “Mm-Hm.”

Sandor slowly slid it in. He was pleased by the way her inner muscles tightened around him. He gave her time to adjust as he continued to push his finger all the way in. Arya had stilled. He waited while the only sounds in the world were their excited breaths.

“Go on, Sandor.” Arya urged.

Sandor began to ever so slowly pump his finger in and out. Arya moved against him. The more excited he became the faster he went. The sight of her taking it from him and her dress in disarray exposing her breasts and her silver high heels did something to him.

“I want you in the bedroom.” He said tersely as he removed his hand.

"I . . ."

“I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“Are you sure?” She asked uncertainly.

“I’m sure.” He looked into her wide grey eyes. “Tell me again that you trust me.”

“I trust you, Sandor.” She said without hesitation.

Sandor rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He knew he would die before he would hurt her.

Arya climbed off of him and pulled her straps back up onto her shoulders. He followed her to the bedroom and turned on the light.

“No, Sandor. Turn it off.”

Sandor remembered all the times he had to fuck in the dark. He wanted to see her. He wanted her to see him. He stood at the light switch and refused to yield while she stood beside her bed. Finally, she turned on the little bedside lamp and he turned off the overhead light and then walked to where she stood. “You don’t want to look at me while I touch you?” He asked with his eyes downcast.

Arya reached out and touched the scarred side of his face. Sandor wanted to pull away but he didn’t because he could see the way she was looking at him. She didn’t look disgusted or even indifferent. She looked at his face with adoration. Sandor leaned forward and kissed her gently. No one had ever looked at him like that before. After the kiss he held her in his arms.

“It’s not you, it’s me. I told you about my own scars.” She whispered.

Sandor had almost forgotten. He now realized what she was hiding wasn’t going to be pretty. She had trained to be an assassin with weaponry of all kinds. It was what the Faceless were known for. “Let me see it, Arya.”

She gave a half-hearted attempt to break away from him but they were standing between the bed and the wall and there was really no place for her to go.

“You said you’d show me.” He insisted softly.

She stood looking over his shoulder, getting her courage up. Finally, she looked him in the eye as she slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders and then she pulled the dress down exposing her breasts and then she slowly pulled it down further until she’d wiggled it down over her hips. She bent down and reached out for his arm for support as she maneuvered the dress over her shoes. She stood up then clad only in her lacy thong and her strappy silver heels. She covered her abdomen with her hands. It was the first time he’d seen her nearly naked. Sandor thought her perfectly toned, petite body was better than he could have ever have imagined. He looked back into her eyes until she was ready. All at once she took a deep breath and dropped her hands away.

Sandor couldn’t help himself. He gasped. She’d been brutally stabbed. He knew stab wounds. The knife had been viciously twisted. Her skin was ridged and puckered. She was very lucky to be alive. He looked back into her eyes with wonder.

“I told you they tried to kill me.”

“That man, Jaqen, sent someone to do this and you killed them?”

Arya nodded. “With Needle.”

“Good.” Sandor pulled Arya into his arms and kissed her tenderly all over her face. “Arya, no scar could make you less than beautiful to me.”

She exhaled sharply and sagged against him.

While still in her embrace, Sandor put his hand over her scars and carefully stroked them. “Are you alright now?” He asked.

“I’ve healed. It happened a year ago.”

“I’m glad you’re better. I’m sorry that happened to you.” What he didn’t say was he was going to kill that red-haired fucker.

He began to kiss her in earnest once again. Arya helped Sandor take off his suit jacket. Oh, Gods! Arya couldn’t help but think there was something about a man wearing a white dress shirt. He let her finish unbuttoning his shirt and then remove it. She was then confronted with Sandor’s muscles bulging against his white undershirt straining the thin material. They pulled off his undershirt together.

Arya stroked and petted his arms and chest and abdomen. She enjoyed scratching her nails gently on him. She loved how he was so large and powerfully built. She even loved how he was covered in a dusting of downy soft hair. It was something she had never considered attractive before but certainly did now. In her heels her mouth was level with his nipples. She began to suck at them and lick and caress his chest.

Sandor began to unbuckle his belt. As soon as he dropped his trousers Arya’s hands found their way to his cock. She was touching him over his boxers and all he could think about was having her mouth on him. He sat down on the bed to pull his shoes and socks off. He pulled his trousers over his ankles. Arya sat down beside him. He stood back up and took off his boxers. He looked down at her. She was watching him. He stepped closer. Her eyes were drawn to his proud manhood straining towards her.

“Arya, would you . . . ?” He whispered. “Please.”

She reached out and took him in her hands. He shuddered. She kissed and licked up and down his length, teasing him. He rested his hand on the back of her head. “Girl! Please don’t tease me.” He begged.

She ran his cockhead over her lips and then took him inside her mouth. Sandor moaned loud and long. She continued her ministrations. Sandor was silent except for his heavy breathing and gasps. She removed her mouth and looked up at him. “What, you don’t have anything to say this time?” She said with a pout.

Sandor nodded. “Oh, I have plenty to say, Girl! Get back to work, now! Umm. Yes, that’s the way. Suck my cockhead. Use more tongue. Oh, you’re so good! You feel so good!” Arya had her hands around the base stroking him as she tried to take more of him in. “Deeper, deeper. Yes! Yes!” Arya hummed in pleasure. The vibration made Sandor almost lose it. “Oh Gods Arya! That feels good. It’s just right. You’re perfect. Your mouth is perfect. Lick me. Yes! Lick my head. Suck me again!”

She took one hand off his length and brushed his balls gently. Sandor gave a shout. She wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

“Oh Gods! Touch me! Touch me! Touch me there! Yes, softly, softly now. That’s right. Umm. Yes! Look at me, Girl. Look at me!” Arya looked up into his eyes and gently squeezed his balls. “I’m going to come!” He shouted.

Arya was ready for him this time and when he tried to push her away she wrapped her arm around his thigh and held him in place. His ejaculate exploded down her throat. It was hot, sticky and bitter but she wanted to do it. She swallowed and continued to milk him as well as she was able. Sandor was beside himself in ecstasy. His hands were clutching Arya’s head as she milked him and he went out of his mind. When he was finished she released him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. He lay beside her on the bed and pulled her down into his arms. He was shaking.

After he had calmed and caught his breath he carefully stroked her hair. “Arya, you didn’t have to do that. Why did you?”

“Because I wanted to.” She said defiantly.

He looked at her serious, determined face. “No one has ever done that for me before.”

“Did you not like it?”

“Of course, I liked it. I more than liked it.” He grinned. He looked down and his smile disappeared. “It’s just that no one ever wanted to do it before.”

“Why not? Were they stupid? It felt wonderful to me.” She said seriously.

“Really?”

“Yes! It’s the first time I’ve done it too.” She admitted.

“The first time you ah . . . swallowed?” Sandor found he was embarrassed.

“Yes, I would have done it the last time but you pushed me away.” She frowned.

“I didn’t want to do anything . . . disrespectful that you might not like.”

“Don’t worry about that. I liked it alright. I think I like cock.” She mused.

“Oh, really?”

“Well, I like yours. Yours is the first one I ever went down on.”

Sandor was overwhelmed. She said she had sex before. If she had, by Gods she had been deprived of some of the best parts. He hugged her again. He continued to lie beside her and stroke her soft skin. They laid together for awhile just lazily touching each other until Sandor began to kiss her again. Arya realized he wasn’t finished.

“I want you to get up on the bed on your hands and knees now.”

Arya bent down to remove her heels.

“No, leave them. They turn me on.”

When she was up on all fours Sandor got behind her and finally pulled her thong off. He began to rub her ass with both hands. He rocked her back and forth. “What a sweet, sweet ass you have. So round, so juicy, so delicious. I’d like to bite it.” He gave her a playful nip.

“But what I would like most is this.” He lay over her back with his chest pressed against her. His arms were alongside hers and his hands covered hers on the mattress. His cock was pressed against her ass. “I would like nothing more on this Earth than to mount you.” He whispered. “I dream about it.” He began to slowly roll his hips forward, gently bumping against her.

“Mmm.”

“Yes, Girl. I would breach your tight, wet cunt and I would give you every inch of me. I would fill you completely. I would start off gently like I am now.” He continued to roll his hips forward as his cock bumped her. “It wouldn’t be enough, though. I couldn’t help wanting to give you more.” Sandor’s breathing became heavier. Arya found herself pushing back against him. “Yes, Girl. I know you would like it. You’re liking it right now.”

Sandor was all around her. She could feel his power. She did like it. She liked him. She liked his body. She wanted his body. She wanted him. She was panting and gasping in a terrible heat. She was just about to tell him what she wanted when he sat back on his knees and placed one hand on her lower back. He used the other to touch her tender folds and her clit, setting Arya off. She began to move against him on her own. It excited Sandor. He slipped his finger inside and quickly worked it all the way into her tight cunt. He moved his other hand from her back to her hip and held on. She clenched his finger inside and rode his hand. Her mouth was open as she gasped for air. He pushed into her slick wetness harder and faster.

“That’s the way! That’s my Girl! Ride my hand!” He stimulated her clit in the way she liked.

Arya tossed her head. “Yes! That’s so good!” She cried. “More, Sandor, more!”

He took her at her word and fingered her rapidly. He pressed her harder and faster still.

“More, more!” She called to him.

He roughly added a second finger before he could stop himself.

“Oh, yes!” She cried out.

Sandor slowed, he worried that it may have been too much too soon.

“Don’t you dare stop! Fuck me, man, fuck me with those fingers!”

She rode his hand with abandon. She began keening and Sandor was afraid she might orgasm. He didn’t want her to come yet. He quickly flipped her on her back and he got off the bed and pulled her legs until he had her positioned where he wanted her at the edge of the bed.

Before she knew what was happening, Sandor had dropped down to his knees on the floor and was avidly watching himself work her. Arya was alarmed. He was way too close and he was getting closer. Before she could say anything he leaned forward and licked her.

“Ohhhh!”

“It’s alright, Girl. I will take good care of you. I swear it.”

Arya knew she should stop him but once he got started all rational thought left her head and she floated off somewhere. She was vaguely aware that her legs had somehow gotten over his shoulders and her hands were gripping his hair. Whether she was trying to push him away or keep him there she wasn’t sure until he moved his head back for a moment to catch his breath and she pushed him right back in. He was using his tongue in the most obscene ways. He was licking and flicking and sucking her clit and her folds. He removed his fingers and used his tongue to lap at her cunt. Arya felt a coiling deep inside her core. It was building and building and Arya was powerless to stop it. She started keening louder and louder.

When Sandor knelt down on the floor and lifted her legs over his shoulders and put his mouth on her, his eyes rolled back into his head. He licked her and lapped at her cunt like the dog he was. He sucked her folds and her clit and rolled his tongue over and over her. He inserted both fingers again and curled them just so as he massaged the same sensitive place he did before.

Sandor realized what a fool he’d been for so long. He liked nothing better than for his face to be buried in a woman’s cunt. No, it wasn’t just any woman; it was Arya. No one had ever made him feel like she did. He wanted her. He wanted to give her everything he had to give. He loved her legs over his shoulders and her heels against his back. She called his name again and again and came beautifully for him, thrashing and keening.

Sandor held her tenderly until Arya had calmed. After Arya went to the bathroom and put on her pajamas, he slipped on his boxers and brought her a glass of ice water. She smiled gratefully. He pulled back the covers and they got into bed together. He held her tightly.

“Are you sure you’ve had sex before?” He asked her seriously.

Arya’s face turned red. “Yes.”

“Well, it seems there are a whole lot of things that are firsts for you.” He reflected.

“Are you asking me if that last part was a first for me too?”

“It’s not really any of my business but . . .” He trailed off.

“Yes, Sandor, you’re the only one to do that, too.”

He squeezed her more tightly and snuggled into her. Gods! She was too good to be true. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't it Nero that fiddled while Rome burned? I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	12. A Man Regrets

The alarm on Sandor’s phone woke him early the next morning. He shook Arya awake. “Arya, I want you to get up and come with me.”

“What? No. Let me sleep.” She put the pillow over her head.

Sandor got up and got dressed. He shook her again. “Come on, sweetheart. Time to get up.”

“Sweetheart?” Arya removed the pillow from her head and tried to see him in the dark.

“Babycakes?” He tried again.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so.” Arya sat up.

He sat down beside her on the edge of the bed. “Hot Stuff?” He teased.

“Gods! It’s too early in the morning for this.” She flopped back down again.

He turned on the bedside lamp. “You need to get up and get yourself together. I’m taking you with me to work.”

“What!”

“You can stay inside the security complex at the Red Keep while I’m at work. You’ll be safe there.”

“No, I’m staying here. You go on ahead and go to work. I’ll call you later.”

“Arya, it’s not safe for you here.”

“You heard Jaqen. He said he would meet me this afternoon. He said he meant me no harm.”

“You’re not serious!” He asked incredulously. “You can’t believe a word he says.”

“Well, he didn’t show up here last night while we were uh, busy or asleep, did he? We weren’t exactly being vigilant or cautious.”

Sandor flushed. He knew they had been stupid but he had been distracted and was once again not thinking too clearly in her presence. He worked in security. He damn well knew better. Suddenly, another thought struck him. “You’re not thinking of actually meeting with him, are you?”

“No, of course not. Well, maybe.”

“Are you insane? You need to have no contact with him whatsoever. You certainly don’t want to encourage him.” Sandor exclaimed.

“You don’t know him. He wouldn’t like it if I ignored him.”

“You’ve been ignoring him for the last year, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but now he knows where I am and I am not going to run away. I might as well talk to him and get this over with.”

“Get what over with? Do you want to be stabbed again?”

Arya sat up again. “I don’t think he wants to kill me.”

“What’s changed? Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know.” She huffed.

“You told me you couldn’t trust him.”

She got out of bed angrily and went into the bathroom. Sandor waited and while she was gone he spotted her lacy green thong on the floor. He scooped it up and slipped it into his pocket. When she came back he tried to pull her into his arms but she was having none of it.

He didn’t like that she was hurt. He didn’t know what to do. She’d spent four years with that man. As much as he hated that thought he realized she must still have some sort of an attachment to him. How dare that red-haired fucker take advantage of the damaged child she had been.

“I’ll call in to work and tell them I have a situation and stay with you here.” He finally said.

“No, Sandor. Just go to work. Come over as soon you’re finished. I won’t do anything until then. I’ll sit on the sofa with Needle and my AR-15 on my lap just in case he tries to come for me.” She joked stupidly.

“No —“

She cut him off. “I want you to trust me on this, Sandor.”

He reached out to her again and she let him hold her. He held her and smoothed her hair. “I can’t let anything happen to you, Arya.”

“Go on, now, I need to think about how I’m going to handle this.” She kissed him very tenderly and petted him lovingly. Sandor responded to her touch by dropping his head to her shoulder. “Go on, it’s going to be all right.” She soothed.

“I need to stay with you.” Sandor nuzzled her neck.

“You have to leave now or you’re going to be late for work. I won’t open my door, I promise.”

“You swear it?” Sandor asked as Arya used her tongue to overcome his resistance.

“Uh-huh, Baby.” She cajoled between kisses.

Arya crawled back into bed as soon as Sandor left. She could deal with everything later.

A few hours later, Arya woke up and took a shower. She stepped out to towel off when she thought she smelled some food. She reasoned it must be coming from the neighbor next door. She held her breath and listened. She heard noises. Someone was in her apartment.

She picked up her Ruger from the bathroom sink. She slipped naked into her bedroom and threw on an oversized T-shirt and some shorts. She eased her way down the short hallway from her bedroom to the living room with her Ruger at the ready. She could hear someone making noise in the kitchen and the smell of food cooking. She peeked around the corner.

Jaqen was at her kitchen sink with his back turned. “Breakfast is almost ready.” He said.

Arya came around the corner and took a firing stance with her legs apart and her weapon extended and pointed at Jaqen’s back. Jaqen ignored her and moved to the stove and picked up a spatula and took two omelettes out of the skillet.

He turned towards her holding a plate in each hand. “Will you join a man for breakfast?” He asked as cool as you please. She lowered her weapon slightly. Jaqen accepted that as her answer and took the plates over to the table. He stood behind one of the chairs and nodded to the empty chair for her to join him.

She lowered the gun and held it alongside her leg and walked over. She stood behind her chair and stared at Jaqen. “How do I know you haven’t poisoned my omelette?” She asked sulkily.

His eyes bored into her. “Because a man says he has not.”

She sat down. He sat down as well. He waited for her to pick up her fork. He may have been a deadly assassin but he did have impeccable manners. He would never presume to begin a meal before a lady. Not only had he managed to break in despite her over-abundance of locks, the bastard had made her a delicious omelette.

She held on to her weapon with one hand while she ate with the other. It was awkward but she didn’t want him to have the advantage.

“A man has already said he means a girl no harm.”

She ignored him. They ate in silence. After they were finished he took the plates to the sink and poured them each some of his favorite tea. He must have brought it with him. He had some nerve, Arya thought to herself.

“Perhaps a Hound should have made a girl breakfast.” He remarked.

“We are not going to discuss Sandor.”

They continued to sip their tea and look at one another. “A girl is well?” He finally said.

“No thanks to you.” She narrowed her eyes. "Are you asking after my injuries or are you just making polite conversation?”

His eyes were intent on hers. “Your injuries.”

“I’m fine." She snapped.

Jaqen’s face flushed. His breathing wasn’t as even as he should have been able to keep it. Arya continued to observe him. It was fascinating. Something was wrong.

“A man . . . a man.” He began unsteadily.

Arya leaned forward. “A man what?”

“A man regrets.” He said suddenly.

Arya was momentarily stunned. “Your mummer’s skills are still perfect. I almost believe you.”

He pushed his chair back and stood up quickly.

She stood up quickly as well. “A girl regrets too. She regrets that she ever trusted you.” She pulled her shirt up and flashed her stab wounds to him.

For a split second, Arya saw some emotion flit across Jaqen H’ghar’s face before he turned away from her and took a couple of steps to the sink. He stood at the sink with his back to her. His head was bowed and his hands rested on the counter. She looked at the back of his tanned arms and she could see the myriad of scars on them that she was so familiar with. She had spent a lot of time with this man. He had taught her so very much.

“A man wishes . . . a man wishes,” Whatever he wished, he left it unsaid.

“Jaqen?” Arya asked uneasily. She involuntarily took a step towards him.

“Do not look at a man.” He said sharply. “A man cannot rule his face.”

“Jaqen!” Arya was deeply shocked.

Jaqen’s chest was heaving. Either he was doing an excellent job of acting or . . . Jaqen really did regret betraying her trust in him. But that would mean that Jaqen was not truly emotionless. Jaqen was the standard all the acolytes in the House strove to emulate. He was supposed to be the most faceless of them all. Could Jaqen have ruled his face all that time? Did he actually feel?

She had wanted him to care about her. She had wanted that more than anything. She strove for excellence in every skill or task she was assigned at the House of Black and White not only because it would help her reach her own goals but because she wanted Jaqen’s approval.

To be truthful, it wasn’t just his approval she sought. During her last year at the House something had changed. She had begun to realize he wasn’t just her Master, he was a man; a very attractive, exacting man with the highest of standards. The way he would lightly tease and pout was intoxicating. He would faintly brush her arm or her hair or even her lips but he would only do it very rarely when he was particularly pleased. She had to work harder than everyone else. She had to bruised and battered and bloody from training and excel at every last challenge before he would reward her.

Sometimes she’d catch a look in his pale blue eyes or a quirk of his lips and think it was possible he was attracted to her. In the end, though, she had to accept they were only tricks he used to keep her on task. She had convinced herself that he was not really capable of having feelings at all. She was nothing more to him than a tool for the God of Death to use. When she proved to not be of use, she was expendable.

“How could you have ordered the gift for me? I was but a girl, a trusting girl.” She whispered.

“A girl had failed. It was my duty.” He sighed as his head sunk even lower.

Arya remembered something Jon had once said. “Duty is the death of love, Jaqen.”

“Just so.”

He had known she was in love with him. She knew he had been fully aware of it. She could never rule her face well enough to hide it.

“But a girl has forgotten the other side of the coin.” He countered.

“Which is?” She asked almost angrily.

“Love is the death of duty.”

“Which means?” Her heart began to beat faster.

“For you, Arya Stark of Winterfell, a man will forsake his duty to give you what you want the most.”

“You mean . . .”

“Vengeance.”

There it was. Everything she wanted was within her grasp. All she had to do was take up with Jaqen, sacrifice his life and forsake Sandor.

Arya tried to control her breathing but it was not to be. She could hear herself and so could he. She had always been shit at ruling her emotions. She couldn’t begin to count the times she had been hit with a stick for it.

“Why would you offer to do this thing, Jaqen?”

He turned to look at her. “A man was never so proud in all his life as when Arya Stark, a man’s one and only apprentice and the girl he had chosen, had marched up to him in the Temple and told him and the Faceless Men to go to hell. Despite everything we had done, we could not break a girl. A girl is strong. A girl is fearless. A girl could defeat a Faceless Master. A girl knows in her own heart the difference between right and wrong. A girl’s will refused to be broken. A girl is everything a man has come to realize he wished he could be.”

Arya had a glimmering of understanding. Jaqen had become Faceless because he had absolutely nothing else. The Faceless specialized in recruiting young, vulnerable, broken people. He had been fully indoctrinated. He’d had nothing and the God had given him a purpose. He’d seen that Arya was broken but had certain skills that could be used by the God. Perhaps, he’d tried to give her a purpose as well.

“While a man was so focused on trying to teach a stubborn girl he did not realize that a stubborn girl was also teaching him. I do not believe quite as blindly as I once did.”

“Jaqen, you didn’t refer to yourself as a man. You said I.”

“Did I, Arya Stark?”

“You have not once chastised me for calling you Jaqen, either. I remember how you would tell me over and over not to call you by that name. That it was only an identity you once used and that it meant nothing.”

"Perhaps, it does mean something after all. A stubborn girl kept insisting on calling a man by that name. Perhaps, a man does not always wish to be no one, perhaps a man might wish to be someone.”

She shivered. He was talking sacrilege. She was suddenly afraid for him. “Do the Faceless Men know you are here, Jaqen?”

He hesitated. "No."

Arya cringed. As a priest in the Temple of Black and White, all of Jaqen’s business should have been the Temple’s business.

“Do they still want me dead?”

“No, a girl was free when she gave a death to the God. A death was promised and a death was given. If a girl could defeat a Master, then a girl was fit to live.”

“But?”

“A man suffered a few consequences.”

“Because I was your apprentice they held you responsible for my actions?”

He bowed his head and then looked back into her eyes. “It was nothing compared to what I caused you to suffer.”

“Jaqen, if you forego your duty to the Faceless Men and help me they will kill you.”

He looked at her very steadily with his pale blue eyes. There was something there; an emotion she didn’t understand. “It will take them awhile to catch me. A man believes it will be enough time to get vengeance for his lovely girl.”

Was Sandor correct? Did Jaqen want her? “Jaqen, I’m not your lovely girl anymore.”

Jaqen exhaled slowly. “A girl . . . a girl prefers a Hound to a man?"

She had only really known Sandor a short time but at least he hadn't tried to kill her. He had that much going for him at the bare minimum.

He continued, "A girl would give up her quest for vengeance for a Hound?"

Arya inhaled sharply. Was this what it boiled down to? "No! But I refuse to do it this way. The cost is too dear."

"A girl finds her heart is not so black, after all?"

"I can't let you sacrifice yourself for me. If you were to die it would be just one more thing taken from me by those who have hurt me. You don't actually have to sacrifice yourself for me. Your offer to die is enough."

Jaqen squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s the only thing a man has to offer you.” He opened his eyes again “Helping you is the only thing I can offer you as atonement. It’s the only way I have for you to forgive me. A man should have never tried to change you.”

"What a girl is trying to say is she forgives a man."

“A man does not deserve it."

"No, he does not. But there it is, just the same."

He nodded. He looked at her very softly. “It’s just that a man wants . . . ” He couldn’t finish.

He nodded again but he looked so unhappy that Arya had the crazy urge to comfort him. She stepped closer. “This was not meant to be.” She smiled sadly. Then she stepped back. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him but she knew that would spell disaster for the both of them.

Jaqen was looking at her lips. He must have been thinking the same thing. Then he got hold of himself. “Goodbye, Arya Stark of Winterfell. If you ever need me . . .” Jaqen reached into his pocket and pulled out an iron coin and handed it to her. She looked at it. It had a little distinctive chip on its face. It was the exact same coin he had given her all those years ago.

“Valar Morghulis.” He said.

“Valar Dohaeris. Farewell, Jaqen.”

Jaqen H’ghar bowed formally and left her home and her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! That didn't go so badly, did it? All that worry for nothing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	13. Beautiful

Arya took to her bed and spiraled downward into a devastating sadness. Sandor tried to call her several times but she just let it go to voicemail. She did text him every time he called that everything was fine so he wouldn’t worry. She also called in sick at the diner.

Sandor was in his room over his lunch hour. He was sitting in his armchair trying once again to call Arya when Meryn Fucking Trant walked in without even knocking.

“I didn’t hear you come in until this morning, Clegane.” Trant said.

“I didn’t know I had a curfew.” Sandor snapped.

“Finally got you a woman I see. Well, a girl, really. I didn’t know you liked them so young.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about." Sandor narrowed his eyes in warning.

Trant walked over to Sandor’s bed and took Arya’s green lacy thong off the bedpost. He held it up to his nose and took a great big sniff before Sandor could stop him. Sandor leapt out of his chair in outrage and charged toward Trant.

Sandor chest bumped Trant’s face as he held Arya’s thong just out of his reach. “What’s this then?” Trant taunted.

“Give it to me!” Sandor roared.

Trant shoved the thong into Sandor’s grasping hand. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the Stark bitch in this.” Trant leered.

Sandor cold-cocked him in his filthy mouth. Trant went flying backwards and landed against the bed on the floor. He quickly scrambled up. “So, she must be more than a piece of ass to you. That really hurt.” Trant said as he rubbed his jaw.

Sandor surged forward again and pulled Trant up by the lapels on his jacket until his feet were no longer touching the ground. “Don’t you talk about her! Don’t you even think about her! If you know what’s good for you, you will completely forget she exists!” Sandor snarled. He slapped Trant upside his head and sneered at him maliciously before he threw him down on the floor.

Trant thought he might have bit off more than he could chew. He got up and headed for the door as Clegane glared at him. He couldn’t resist giving Clegane a parting shot, “I wonder what Tywin Lannister would think of your little pistol packing girlfriend? He might think you’re getting above your station by mounting a highborn bitch, Dog.” He was smart enough to take off running after that last remark.

Sandor groaned inwardly. Fucking Trant! He’d break his arm if he said one more thing. He locked his door and sat back down in his chair. He unclenched his hand and held Arya’s thong up to his own face. Gods! What was happening to him?

Later that day Sandor was disgusted with himself. He should never have left Arya alone. Here he was standing near the cosmetics counter in Nordstrom watching Cersei Lannister as she tried on lipstick while Arya was either being murdered or ravished by a Faceless Man. He suspected the red-haired fucker was more interested in ravishing her than killing her at least for now. He saw the way he had looked at Arya.

Late in the afternoon Arya texted Sandor and asked that he not come over after he got off work. Sandor frantically tried to call her several times before she finally picked up.

“What’s going on?” He fairly shouted at her.

“Nothing. I just want to be alone.”

“He –“

She cut him off. “Jaqen’s gone. He went home.”

“What?”

“We talked and he left.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I have to go now.” She disconnected. She was too drained to talk anymore.

About twenty minutes later she heard the buzzer for the lobby door. She ignored it but a couple minutes after that there was a pounding on her apartment door. The heavy pounding wouldn’t stop. 

Arya got out of bed and stood on her side of the door. “I’m fine, Sandor, go away.”

“No, damn you, let me in!”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I’m not leaving. Open the door.”

“Sandor,”

“I have to see that you’re OK.”

She sighed as she unlocked the door. Sandor came barging in with his weapon drawn. His eyes darted all around as if he still expected Jaqen to be there holding her hostage.

“You’ve been crying.” He accused as he holstered his Sig Sauer.

“See, I’m fine. Now go.”

Sandor ignored her and looked down into her face. “Did he come here?”

She nodded.

“Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head.

“What did he do?”

“He made me breakfast.” She started to cry again.

Sandor put his arms around her while she cried. Sandor thought she was crying an awful lot over a man who had tried to have her killed. “What happened?”

“Nothing. We just talked.”

“Talked about what?”

She shook her head.

“But he’s gone? He’s left the city?”

“Yes.”

Sandor wanted her to sit on the sofa but she wouldn’t.

“I just want to lie down for awhile in my bedroom.”

“You go ahead, then. I’ll just stay out here and watch TV.”

She realized he wasn’t going to leave so she just left him there and went to her room. She fell asleep immediately. When she awoke it was nearly dark. She had slept a long time. She went into the bathroom and washed her face and brushed her hair. When she came out she found Sandor in the kitchen. He had washed the breakfast dishes.

“I’ll make us something to eat.” He said.

“No.” She couldn’t have the both of them cook for her on the same day. She just couldn’t.

“Alright.” Sandor just stood near her refrigerator looking hurt.

“Let’s just order a pizza.” Arya said.

After the pizza, Arya told him she would contact him when she wanted to see him. Late in the afternoon of the third day Sandor couldn’t stand it any longer. He drove over to the diner and went in when her shift ended.

She sighed and followed him out to his SUV without a word. She still wore her camouflage vest. Apparently, she still didn’t feel safe. She looked tired and wrung out. Sandor had brought some groceries. He cooked some chicken and mashed potatoes. Arya made a chef salad. 

“Thank you, Sandor. Your chicken was actually very good.” Arya smiled for the first time in a long time.

“Don’t get excited. It’s the only thing I know how to make.”

Arya gave him a look. “Are you serious?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, you’re lucky you met me. I can make all kinds of good things. I haven’t even baked you any bread or made you a lemon meringue pie yet.”

“You can make a pie?”

“Umma taught me. She’s the cook at the House of Black and White. We all had to take turns in the kitchen.”

Sandor reached his hand across the table and took her hand in his. She gave him a sad smile. Sandor insisted on cleaning up and washing the dishes. Arya continued to sit at the table as she sipped her wine. Sandor tried to start a conversation with her but she didn’t seem like she wanted to talk.

When he was finished he sat back down at the table with her. “Do you want me to leave now?”

She frowned.

“Just tell me what to do, Arya.”

“I just want to lie down now.”

“OK. I’ll go.” He got up.

“Would you lie down with me?”

Sandor followed Arya to her bedroom. Arya stripped down to her camisole and undies and crawled under the covers. Sandor took off his work suit and stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and got under the covers with her. She snuggled up to his chest and he put his arms around her and held her.

Arya woke up sometime after midnight. Sandor was smothering her. The man could really radiate heat. If she ever had to go beyond the Wall, she would be sure to take Sandor with her. He was always hugging her and squeezing her. What was wrong with him? She was nothing special. She wasn’t even pretty. She supposed it didn’t matter to some men. As long as a woman had the right equipment between their legs that was good enough for them. What did Sandor want with her anyway? Well, he had told her what he wanted. He wanted to mount her. Maybe he really was a dog. She snickered.

She got out from under him and swung her feet to the floor as she sat on the edge of the bed. He probably wanted to do it that way so he wouldn’t have to look at her face. He might as well have asked her to put a paper bag over her head. She snickered some more at the thought. She knew he liked her and she was pretty sure he liked her looks such as they were. She was just feeling sorry for herself. Did people always feel sorriest for themselves in the dead of night? She laughed again at the thought of doing it with a paper bag on her head.

“Arya.” Sandor sat up. “Is everything alright?” He edged over until he could reach her. Her back was to him and he wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Arya?”

She placed her hand on his arm at her waist.

“Arya? Can I get you something? A drink of water?”

She shook her head.

“Is there anything you need?”

She shook her head.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why would you want to do something for me?”

Sandor brushed the hair off the side of her neck and gave her a kiss. “Why wouldn’t I want to do something for you?”

Arya thought about what he said. For such a big, fierce, unfriendly man he sure could be considerate. She turned to look at him but it was too dark to see him very clearly. She gave him a brief kiss. “Move over, I want to lie down.”

Sandor moved and Arya laid her head on his chest. He put his big, warm arm around her. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you and your assassin?” Sandor asked as he stroked her arm.

“He’s not my assassin, Sandor. No one can’t belong to anyone.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. I’m just upset because I wonder if I’ll ever get want I want.”

“What’s that?”

“Vengeance.”

Sandor quit stroking her arm. “Is that what all of that with the Faceless Men was all about?”

“Maybe.”

“I can’t begin to understand how much you must have gave up and how much danger you put yourself in for that, Arya. Was it really worth it?”

Arya sat up angrily. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Sandor Clegane. Don’t make petty assumptions. You don’t know anything!”

“I’ve heard it said that the best revenge is living well.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” She shot back. She had him there. They both knew it.

Sandor saw Arya a couple of times over the next week. She seemed distant and she certainly didn’t invite him back into her bed. Once they met at the park and ran and the other time they went furniture shopping and looked at sofas. She hadn’t even let him back into her apartment. He could feel her getting further and further away from him and he didn’t know what to do to stop it.

The following week Sandor called Arya and asked her if she wanted to go to for a hike on the river trail. She asked if he had a cooler. Sandor brought an ice chest and met Arya at her apartment. She was busily preparing food.

“I have a surprise for you, Sandor.” She smiled.

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes.”

He closed his eyes and he could feel her move something onto the counter in front of him.

“OK, open up!”

She had made him a lemon meringue pie. She was smiling so prettily at him he wanted to reach out and touch her. Instead, he bent down and grazed her lips with his. “Thank-you, Arya.” She swiped her finger in the meringue and put it up to his lips. He licked it off. 

He smiled. “Seven Hells! That is a delicious pie! Let me help you, what do you need me to do?” He offered.

Arya loaded the ice chest with lunch and made Sandor carry it downstairs to his SUV. Despite surprising him with a pie, she seemed to draw back into herself on the ride to the river. Sandor knew he wasn’t the world’s best conversationalist but it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to talk anyway.

After their hike, they found a spot ringed by hills with boulders strewn about near the parking area. Sandor brought the cooler and they laid out their lunch. The sky was overcast and it looked like it might rain. They ate in silence. The silence was getting to Sandor. He had scratched his neck on a tree branch. Arya sat across from him and asked him if he had some first aid supplies. When he nodded toward his backpack she went over and found the zip kit inside.

As she approached him he snapped at her and took the kit from her hands. “I can do it myself.”

He began dabbing at the wound with an alcohol swab while she had retreated from him and his unfriendly words. “I don’t know why we came up here. It’s just going to rain.” He complained. “You don’t want to be here, anyway.” He glanced over at her and realized he had been too harsh from the look on her face. She began to pack up the remains of the picnic.

“Do you really want to be alone? I’ve been alone most of my life. You might not feel lucky but you still have most of your family; at least your family loves you. All I’ve got is my brother, Gregor. You say your brother gave you your sword, Needle. All my brother gave me is this.” He motioned to his face. “I’m sure you’ve already heard the story. Gregor pressed me to the fire like a nice juicy mutton chop.”

“Why?” She asked even though she had heard the story. Petyr Baelish told Sansa the story at the King’s Hand Tourney many years ago while she listened. She just couldn’t believe it.

“He thought I stole one of his toys. I didn’t steal it; I was just playing with it. The pain was bad. The smell was worse. But the worst thing was that it was my brother that did it. And my father who protected him told everyone my bedding caught fire. Gregor’s in prison now for rape and murder.” He turned to look at her. “You think you’re on your own?”

“Let me help you take care of it at least.” She motioned to his scratch.

Sandor nodded and Arya got up and cleaned his wound and dressed it. She leaned over and kissed it when she was finished. Sandor did not try to stop her. No one had done that since his mother. They sat quietly for about another half hour and then they packed up and went to Arya’s. Sandor had the honor of lugging the picnic detritus up the stairs. Arya emptied the cooler and was cleaning up.

“I’m going now, Arya.” Sandor was feeling very low.

Arya looked up quickly. “No, Sandor. Come here.” She held out her arms. Sandor reluctantly submitted to her embrace. “I think we are both tired. How about we just take a little nap?”

He followed Arya to the bedroom. They stripped down to their underclothes. Sandor lay on his back while Arya cuddled up next to him. After a few minutes, Arya rose up and looked him in the face. “You’re beautiful. You know that, don’t you?” Sandor raised his good eyebrow. Arya hopped up. She stood at the foot of the bed. “Every bit of you is beautiful.”

“Your feet are beautiful.” She kissed the tops of each one of his feet. Sandor looked at her sadly. “Your legs are beautiful.” She crawled up the bed and kissed her way up both of his legs alternating between each of them. A small amused smile began to form on Sandor’s lips. “You already know how much I admire this part of you.” She grinned as she gave his cock a kiss over the top of his boxers. She straddled him “Your chest is beautiful.” She kissed his entire torso. She was smiling very broadly now. “Your hands are beautiful.” She kissed both of his hands and each of his fingers. “Your arms are beautiful.” She kissed her way up one arm and then the other. Sandor looked pleased.

“Your neck is beautiful.” She said as she thoroughly kissed his neck. “Your face is beautiful.” She looked down on him very tenderly as she kissed the unburned part of his forehead, cheek, nose and chin. “All of your face is beautiful, Sandor.” Sandor closed his eyes and Arya kissed his scarred forehead and cheek. She even kissed his mangled ear. Sandor jumped involuntarily. He was particularly sensitive there. She stopped as she waited for him to open his eyes. She knew what she wanted to say next but she bit her tongue and kissed him on the mouth instead.

Arya was lying on top of him and he embraced her. “I should be the one trying to make you feel better. You’re the one who has been sad.” He said.

Sandor could feel her laughter against his neck. “You stupid, lovely man, this is making me feel better.”

They woke up in the early evening. Sandor insisted on taking her out to dinner since he would be leaving on his survivalist trip the next morning and he wanted to treat her. Arya put on her new jade green dress again.

“I know I’m overdressed compared to you. I just wanted you to remember me in this dress while you are away.”

“I can think of an even better way to remember you, Girl.” He winked.

They drove to the Drowned God seafood restaurant. Sandor opened her car door. “You never did tell me how you could afford this dress.”

She laughed. “It was easy. I called up my Aunt Lysa and told her I needed a dress so I could be more ladylike and she was thrilled. She let me charge it to her.”

Sandor began to laugh uncontrollably. “Well, you be sure to thank your Aunt for me. I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate it. You look very ladylike in it.” He looked down at her and raised his good eyebrow. “Most of the time.”

During dinner Arya spoke about learning water dancing when she was a little girl. Syrio Forel, the First Sword of Braavos had been her instructor.

“Why would the First Sword of Braavos teach dance?” Sandor asked.

“It’s a special kind of dance. It involves swords.”

“I wouldn’t mind dancing with you.”

“I’d like that too. Next time I see you, bring your sword.”

“No, I meant actual dancing, with music.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“You mean clubbing? At a club?”

“Well, I didn’t mean ballroom dancing. At a ball.”

“I . . . I don’t know how to dance.” Her face turned bright red.

No, he supposed the Faceless Men had not spent a lot of time teaching the social graces. “I could teach you.” He offered.

‘You?”

“I know I might look like a big dumb ox but I’m more agile than I look.” He grinned.

“OK, but we can practice at my apartment first. I don’t want to jump into the deep end of the pool right away.”

Sandor laughed. The woman could shoot better than any sniper he'd ever known but she was worried about embarrassing herself at a dance club. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. You already are very light on your feet.”

On their way home Sandor got pulled over by the police for speeding.

“Good Evening. I’m Sergeant Tarth with the King’s Landing PD. This is Officer Payne.” The woman police officer was extremely tall and well-built. She had short cropped blonde hair and very fair skin. She was wearing blue body armor and had piercing blue eyes. The patrolman was much shorter and dark-haired. He had a wide lop-sided grin.

“Do you know the reason I stopped you?” Sergeant Tarth asked.

“Yes, I do. But if you don’t know I’m certainly not going to tell you.” Sandor smarted off.

Sergeant Tarth made a face. “The reason I stopped you is I clocked you going 12 over the posted limit. May I see your license and registration, please?” Sergeant Tarth asked primly.

Sandor gave her what she required.

“Where are you coming from, Ser?”

“Dinner.”

“Have you had anything to drink tonight, Ser?”

“Is this really necessary?” Sandor asked.

“Could you step out of the car, Ser?”

Sandor stepped out of the SUV. Sergeant Tarth stood up to her full height. She was nearly as tall as Sandor.

“He’s the Hound.” Officer Payne piped up. “He works security for the Baratheons. I recognize him from when I used to work for Tyrion Lannister. He usually competes in the King’s Hand Tourney.”

Sergeant Tarth’s face lit up. “Really? Are you going to be in the upcoming tourney?”

Sandor nodded.

“This is the first year I’ve lived here. I’m really looking forward to it. I’m going to compete in all three events. How about you?”

“I’m going to do the same.”

She looked Sandor over critically. Sandor sized her up as well.

Officer Payne was at Arya’s window. “How about you, are you going to compete, Lady Arya?” He asked.

Sergeant Tarth looked in the window at her.

Arya was taken aback. She looked more carefully at Officer Payne. “Do I know you?”

He grinned. “I remember you visiting the Red Keep when you were little. You really used to get into some trouble.”

Arya couldn’t help but return his grin.

“Are you skilled in historical fighting, Miss?” Sergeant Tarth asked.

“A little. My brother, well, my cousin Jon gave me a sword. Its name is Needle.”

“Yes, all the best swords have names. Mine is called Oathkeeper.” Sergeant Tarth said.

Sandor rolled his eyes. He was of the opinion that only cunts named their swords but decided he’d best keep his mouth shut.

“What’s your name?” The Sergeant asked Arya.

“Arya Stark.”

Sergeant Tarth raised her eyebrows. “Was your mother Catelyn Tully?”

Arya nodded.

“I knew your mother. Are you going to compete in the tourney?”

Arya shrugged her shoulders. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

“Too bad. Us ladies need to show these men how it’s done. Watch your speed. Good evening to you both.” Apparently, she forgave Sandor’s law-breaking ways.

On the way back to her apartment Arya teased Sandor. “Oh, you’re in trouble now! She was a big one! She might be able to beat you, Sandor. You had better watch out!”

For some reason the encounter with the big brute of a woman had put Arya in a very good mood. Sandor didn’t understand why but he was grateful. If he had to take a little teasing it was worth it. Arya laughed and sassed him and played loud music all the way back to her apartment.

Sandor flopped down on the wounded sofa. Arya put on some music. She was skipping around.

“Get up! I’m ready to learn to dance!”

She really did try to learn at first but soon they jumped and stomped all around like a herd of elephants or maybe it was kangaroos. The neighbor started banging on the floor from the ceiling below. They collapsed in a sweaty heap on the sofa with Arya on Sandor’s lap.

Arya was biting her bottom lip. Sandor seemed to be mesmerized. “Are you just going to look or are you going to kiss me?” She teased.

Sandor gave her a brief peck. Arya noticed he wasn’t laughing and he looked very serious. “Sandor?”

He touched her lips with his fingers. He gently rubbed the backs of his fingers across her cheek. She relaxed in his arms.

“I’m going to miss you while you’re away on your trip, Sandor.” She sighed as she hugged him. "Good luck surviving on your survivalist trip. Don't drink any pee if you don't have to." They kissed a few more times and then Arya told him goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was kind of a long one! Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	14. I Know What I Want

Sandor sat around the campfire in the Stormlands National Park. He was on day five of his eight day survivalist trip. He was hungry and dirty. This trip was supposed to center him. It was supposed to whittle down all the built up tension of day to day living. Relying on oneself was supposed to make a man grateful for what he had and to not sweat all the small stuff. It was supposed to make him realize what was really important to him. It had.

Sandor had a lot of time for self-reflection. Everyone was afraid of him. His scars and his attitude combined to frighten people away and to protect his inner softness. The world had not been kind to him. He had to be hard to survive. He didn’t exactly like what he had become.

Only one person had never been afraid of him. Only one person saw right through him. Only one person had looked right into his face and told him he was not ugly. She’d even gone farther than that. Only one person had been accepting and giving to him. She had made him feel worthy. She had made him feel like a man.

He wondered what he was doing out here in the middle of nowhere all by himself when what he wanted most in the world was back in King’s Landing. He didn’t want to even think about how much he missed her.

He hated how life had damaged her just as it had damaged him. She had a big heart. She was extraordinarily brave. He hated that she had been exposed to and immersed in the Faceless Men’s soul-destroying dogma. She had appeared to come out the other side both physically and mentally stronger but at what cost? Her former master still had a hold on her. He still had his hooks in her. She didn’t fool him for one minute. He hoped to the Seven that the cold-hearted assassin could love her enough to really let her go.

He knew he should let her go as well. She deserved a good man. Someone who had not done all of the ugly things he had done. She deserved a man who was whole and undamaged. Sandor sighed. He knew what she deserved. He also knew he would not let her go. He needed her too much. She had given herself to him for some reason he could never fathom. He would keep her. He would keep her for as long as he was able.

Sandor packed up his gear the following morning. Maybe, just maybe, if he tried really hard, he could be worthy of Arya. He didn't always have to be such a hard, mean bastard. This trip and time with himself had given him clarity. Arya had given him a terrible thirst. She’d given him a terrible thirst for the things he had never experienced and never knew existed. He could not let her go. He started back down the trail. He’d spent enough time here. He knew what was important. He knew what he wanted. 

When Sandor arrived back at his room, the first thing he did was stuff his face and have a nice hot shower. Then he had taken a long nap. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another couple of days. He decided he would surprise Arya. He picked up a bottle of Dornish red. When he got to her apartment complex someone was exiting the lobby door so he was able to enter the building without buzzing her. He walked up the stairs and knocked on her door.

A man answered the door. He had short, black hair and very blue eyes. He wasn’t as tall as Sandor. He was much younger than Sandor. He had a lean muscular build. Sandor could see his body quite plainly. The man was wearing nothing but a towel.

“Where’s Arya?” Sandor barked.

“She’s asleep. Who are you?” The man asked.

“No, who are you?” Sandor asked angrily.

The man appeared surprised. “I’m Gendry. I’m her boyfriend.”

Sandor inhaled sharply. He could barge in and take the man apart. He could yell and curse. He could tear the place up. He could wake Arya and shake her senseless. He did none of those things. He turned around without another word and left.

A few hours later after Arya had made Gendry a nice supper they sat down on the broken sofa to watch TV. “Gendry, how about you run out and pick us up some more wine?” Arya asked.

That reminded Gendry of the strange, hulking, scarred man at the door earlier. He’d been holding a bag with a bottle of wine. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. Some man stopped by earlier while you were asleep.”

“Who was it?” Arya asked.

“I don’t know. He didn’t say. He was big and ugly and he was holding a bottle of wine. I thought he must have the wrong apartment but he asked for you by name. Is he some kind of friend of yours?”

“What!? Did he have a scarred face?” Arya asked with trepidation.

“Yeah, he sure was ugly.”

“He’s not ugly! Why didn’t you wake me? Didn’t you invite him in?”

“Well, I had just gotten out of the shower. I only had on a towel. Besides, I really didn’t want him to come in. Frankly, he looked scary. He seemed mad.”

“What! What did you say to him?”

“Nothing.” Gendry said defensively.

“What do you mean nothing? You must have said something.”

“I don’t think so.” Gendry said as if he was unsure.

“Don’t tell me you just stood there staring at him? Didn’t he ask for me?”

“Well, yes. I told him you were sleeping.”

Arya panicked. “You answered the door in a towel and told him I was asleep?”

“He did ask who I was.” Gendry smiled sheepishly. “I told him I was your boyfriend.” Gendry winked. The fool actually winked!

“Seven Hells, Gendry! What have you done?” Arya leapt up and paced around. Oh my Gods! This looked bad. This looked terrible. Poor Sandor. This was a disaster. “How long ago was this? Why would you do such a thing?”

“I don’t know, maybe two or three hours ago. Besides, who was he anyway? He looked old enough to be your father.”

“I’m going to kill you, Gendry!” She stopped pacing around to glare at him.

“Wait. Why was some strange man bringing you a bottle of wine anyway?”

“He’s my," Arya paused, “he’s my special friend!”

“Special friend? Do you mean boyfriend?”

“No . . . “

“Oh my Gods! He’s a hook-up!”

“It’s not like that.”

“Let me get this straight; I offer you my heart and soul and you toss me aside. You prefer some ugly, disfigured hulk of a man to do . . . Gods know what with you with no strings attached?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Gendry! My love life is really none of your business!”

“Love life? What love? You mean your sex life is none of my business?”

“Gendry!”

“What? He comes over here unannounced for a . . . a _booty_ call and all he has to do is to give you a bottle of wine for you to open your legs?”

“Stop it! You’re making it into something ugly. It’s not ugly. There are feelings involved.”

“Feelings! So you have feelings for him. Does he have feelings for you?”

“I think so.”

“You let a man sleep with you and you don’t even know if he cares for you? You know nothing. You are as clueless as your brother, Jon! As far as you know, he’s taking advantage of your inexperience and youth for his own personal gratification. What are you thinking, Arry?”

“He is not taking advantage of me! He makes me feel safe!”

“Safe? Oh.”

“We . . . we haven’t actually even gone all the way.”

“What? Why not?”

“If you must know, it’s because of what happened between us. Sex means commitment and I’m not ready for a commitment!”

Gendry shook his head. “You rejected me because I pushed you too hard?”

“It was more than that. I’m not who you think I am anymore. You think I’m some sweet, plucky girl. You are remembering me as I was as a child. You have no idea what I’ve become, Gendry.”

“Then why don’t you tell me?” He said softly. “Why don’t you tell me how you got stabbed?”

Arya just looked at him and said nothing.

"And for your information, you were never sweet to begin with." Gendry scowled.

Sandor had gone back to his room. He drank the bottle of wine plus another one that he’d stopped and picked up. He just wanted to get drunk as soon as possible so he wouldn’t have to think. He had torn up his room and broke a few pieces of furniture in the process. By the time Arya called him he was already unconscious. He saw he had several texts and a voicemail from Arya the next morning.

_Gendry is not my boyfriend. He’s just an old friend of mine. He didn’t know who you were. He was being an ass. I’m sorry. Please call me. I’m glad you’re back._

Sandor snorted. Did she think he was a fool? The man had been naked! He had been crushed last night. She had destroyed him. Her voicemail had given him some hope when he woke up this morning. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to go over there and confront the both of them. Sandor was afraid to talk to her. If he talked to her he would know if she was lying. He couldn’t bear it if she was lying.

He wanted her but he did have some pride. He was going to have to fight for her. She was going to make him humiliate himself. Perhaps he should just have some faith in her. He wanted to believe in her but the world was awful. He really hoped she was telling the truth. He would have to do whatever he had to do to get her back. But right now he was angry and hurt.

He tried not to think about it. He just took a shower and sat around feeling sorry for himself as he thought about how he had to go back to work in a few days. He wasn’t really looking forward to another soul-crushing day of standing around doing next to nothing or worse, following Cersei around as she did stupidly inane things. Still, he was glad Joffrey had gone off to college. Cersei was still better than Joffrey. The little shit was probably gleefully terrorizing some poor innocent college girl right now.

Arya texted Sandor again late in the afternoon but he still wasn’t answering her. She’d gone home after work and took a shower. Gendry acted like he was expecting dinner but he had better think again.

“There’s some food in the fridge, Gendry. I’m going out now.”

“What! Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to fix the mess you made.” She sighed. “Where do you think I’m going?”

Gendry started sulking.

“After Hot Pie gives me a ride you two can go out to the club or something.” Arya suggested.

Gendry insisted on coming with them to the Red Keep. She got out and buzzed the intercom.

“How may I help you?” Security asked.

“Visitor for Sandor Clegane.” Arya announced.

“Just a moment, please.”

She waited for awhile. Hot Pie and Gendry looked dubious.

“Clegane isn’t accepting visitors at this time.” Security informed her.

Oh, Hells No! They didn’t say he wasn’t there. They said he didn’t want to see her. He wasn’t getting away with that. She could see his SUV from the gate. It was parked at the security complex. She noted the security cameras and got back in Hot Pie's car. She had him drive along the road beside the tall iron fence as she looked for a vulnerability in the defenses of the Red Keep. She already knew the hard way in through the tunnels. She was looking for a faster, easier way.

"Let's just go, Arry." Gendry urged. "I'm sure he'll talk to you after he calms down."

"Yeah, Arry, just come out to the club with us. I don't want to get in any trouble." Hot Pie said anxiously.

“No. I'm going to fix this mess as soon as possible." Arya huffed. "Stop right here!" She had spotted a way in. There was a maple tree on the other side of the fence but one large branch extended over the top. It was pretty high off the ground.

She got out of the car and stood under the branch, judging the distance. "Gendry! Get over here!"

They both stood under the limb, staring up. "Do you think you could boost me up there?" Arya asked.

Gendry turned his head and looked down at her. "Are you nuts? This is a very bad idea."

Arya grinned. "When did that ever stop me before?"

Gendry sighed. He knelt down so she could get on his shoulders. Arya slipped her sneakers off and climbed on him.

"Arry! You're going to get us arrested!" Hot Pie chimed in from the driver’s seat of his car.

Arya and Gendry held onto the fence to get their balance but they still struggled. Eventually, Arya was able to stand on his shoulders. She used the agility and upper body strength she had obtained through training at the House of Black and White to finally latch on to the tree limb and haul herself up.

"Toss me my shoes." She called down to Gendry.

It took several attempts but Arya was finally able to catch her sneakers and put them back on. She didn't want to scrape up her feet any more than necessary. She knew she was already going to regret climbing a tree in shorts. She made her way over the rough branch and over the fence. She made her way down the tree from limb to limb until she was close enough to drop to the ground. She’d climbed the lemon tree at the House of Black and White plenty of times to get back in unnoticed.

Arya walked up to the fence. Gendry joined her on his side. He reached through the iron bars and grabbed her arm. "I hope you know what you're doing. Be careful."

Arya smiled at him. "I know what I'm doing. Thanks, Gendry."

She hurried across the grounds before she was spotted and intercepted. She pushed open the door to the security complex. It wasn’t even locked.

“Who are you? How’d you get in?” The guard at the desk asked as he jumped up in alarm.

“I’m here to see Clegane.”

The guard came around the desk. A few more guards had wandered in from the hallway. “This girl has breached security!” The man told the others. All three men confronted her.

“I don’t want any trouble but I’m not leaving until I see Clegane.” Arya insisted.

They began to move in on her.

“Back off and no one gets hurt.” She said loudly.

Naturally, they didn't listen. Arya had to spend a minute or two kicking them and flinging the three men around the room.

Sandor heard some commotion. He followed the sound and watched as Arya flipped one of his co-workers over her shoulder. One was already laying on the ground holding his privates and one was clutching his nose. “Alright, enough with the playtime.” He said to all of them. "She's a friend of mine." Two of the guards backed away cautiously and shook their heads and went on their way.

The first guard sat back down at his desk and gave her a dirty look. “She breached the fence.” He whined like a tattle-tale while still holding his crotch.

Arya stuck her tongue out at him.

“I’ll take care of her.” Sandor took her by the arm and escorted her out to the parking lot. He was angry but he couldn’t help admiring her a little. It was a little flattering that she’d penetrated the grounds of the Red Keep for him. He walked her over to his SUV. “What was that?” He asked.

“You’re not accepting visitors?” She huffed. "That was just a little ninjutsu. I told them not to touch me."

"Ninjutsu?" Gods! Of course. She was a fucking ninja. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He remembered once offering her some self-defense pointers when they were out in the Stormlands. Obviously, she had just been pretending she couldn’t get out from under him. He rubbed his face while trying to hide a smile.

Sandor looked tired. He needed a shave and his hair was messy. He’d been dozing when she first showed up. When he had been informed he had a female visitor he was shocked. After he’d had them send her away he had started to feel bad. He couldn’t believe it when he’d heard her loud voice at the front desk.

“What do you want?” He asked rather rudely.

“You never responded to my messages. Why are you ignoring me?”

“You never said you already had a boyfriend when you were fooling around with me.” He accused. He looked so dejected and uncertain Arya’s heart went out to him.

She sighed. “I tried to tell you Gendry isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Does he know that?”

“He knows it. He just doesn’t want to believe it.” Arya shrugged.

“Great.”

“Gendry’s been my friend for years. We . . . uh . . . uh,”

“You what?” Sandor waited.

“I only slept with him once. I knew it was a mistake as soon as it happened. He’s still my friend. I love him but just not in that way.”

“How long ago was this?”

“After I came back from Braavos.”

Sandor understood what she was saying. She meant after she had been stabbed and needed someone. He probably should have been glad she had someone to care for her but it still hurt him. “I thought you were alone like me and all this time you had him and you never even mentioned him. Were you spending all your time with him when you weren’t with me?”

“No, of course not. Gendry doesn’t even live here. He lives in White Harbor. He’s going to school there. I haven’t even seen him in at least six months.”

“So, you just decided to invite him over as soon as I left town?” Sandor asked bitterly.

“No! He just showed up a couple of days ago.”

“It’s funny how you didn’t tell him you had a boyfriend. Your voicemail said he didn’t know who I was when he answered the door.”

He had her on that one. She knew Gendry wouldn’t like it if she was seeing someone so she had decided not to tell him. Besides, she thought Gendry would be gone before Sandor got back from his trip.

“Wait a minute, you’re my boyfriend?”

“I thought I was.”

Tywin Lannister was out and about riding his big white Andalusian horse when he spotted Clegane in the security parking lot towering over a small girl. He knew it was Clegane because of his size. They appeared to be arguing. They were both waving their arms around and the girl had her chin up defiantly and was pointing her finger up at him.

Tywin rode his horse over to get a closer look. He stopped near them at the edge of the parking lot. Neither one of them noticed him. He coughed loudly to get their attention. They were both startled but interestingly they both stepped closer to each other as they turned. Clegane even put his hand on the girl’s back in a protective gesture. The girl was older than he’d first thought. Her defiant chin came up and he recognized her Northern grey eyes. He hadn’t forgotten that time he had mistaken her for the daughter of a servant while he had been staying at Harrenhal.

“Ah, Clegane, is there a problem here?”

Clegane had put on an impassive face. “No, Ser.” He said as he dropped his hand from the girl.

Tywin’s eyebrow shot up.

“This young lady was just leaving.” Sandor said indifferently as if he didn’t know her.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Tywin nodded towards Arya.

There was a dead silence. That confirmed to Tywin what was already pretty obvious. Clegane had somehow gotten himself involved with the youngest Stark girl. “Never mind. I know who she is. How are you Lady Arya?”

“Um, I’m fine, Lord Tywin. How are you?”

“I’m well. And how is your family?”

“They are all well.”

“You are far from home.”

“I’m starting college here in the fall.”

“Ah, and what will you be studying?”

“Medieval history and warfare.”

Tywin was pleased. He loved medieval history and reenactments just as much as his son-in-law Robert Baratheon and her father Ned Stark had. He actually smiled before he could stop himself. He fondly remembered that afternoon he had spent at Harrenhal discussing great historical battles and strategies with Arya before he knew who she was.

“Very good. The King’s Hand Tourney is next week. You should not miss it. Clegane will be competing but I’m sure you are already aware of the gentleman’s business.” He gave Clegane a knowing look. “Good evening to you, Lady Arya, Clegane.” He nudged his horse and rode away.

Sandor and Arya turned and looked at each other. “Shit.” Sandor said. “We were too obvious. He knows about us. Get in the car.”

They traveled a couple of blocks in silence before Arya opened her mouth. “That certainly went well, don’t you think?”

“Are you kidding me?” Sandor grimaced.

“I shouldn’t have come.” She said. Sandor continued to give her the silent treatment. “Are you mad? Are you ashamed to be with me?” She finally asked.

Sandor pulled his SUV over and put it in park. “No, Girl. I'm not mad and I’m lucky to be with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You said Lord Tywin would be angry.”

“Fuck Tywin Lannister. He doesn’t own me.”

“You’ve been working there a long, long time, haven’t you?”

He nodded.

“I wouldn’t want you to lose your job over me.”

“He’s not going to stop me from having what I want.”

“What is that, Sandor?”

He turned and looked at her. He looked into her big grey eyes. She looked into his soft brown eyes. She reached out her hand and touched his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering, Sandor was not forced to drink his own pee on his trip! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	15. Don't Say It

“Arya, I want to go to your place.” Sandor said huskily.

“Yes, I’d like that.” Arya agreed.

When they got to her building, Arya spotted Hot Pie’s car in the parking lot. “Oh, they’re here.”

“What? Who?”

“Gendry and Hot Pie, that’s Hot Pie’s car.” She pointed to a beat up old Ford Fiesta. “They were supposed to be going out to the club tonight.”

“Text them and ask them their plans.” Sandor suggested.

Arya texted Gendry. “They say they’re leaving in about an hour. I didn’t tell them we’re down here in the parking lot. What do you want to do? Do you want to go up and meet Gendry?”

“No, Girl, that’s the last thing I want to do right now.”

Arya gave Sandor an appraising look. “What exactly do you want to do right now?”

Sandor didn’t answer her. He just drove to Mormont Memorial Park and parked on one of the back access roads. It was almost dark.

“Did we come here to jog, Sandor?” Arya asked coyly.

“Not exactly.” He reached over and unclasped her safety belt. Then he unclasped his own.

“You do believe me about Gendry, don’t you?” Arya asked just before Sandor leaned over and carefully latched onto her bottom lip and sucked on it. A flame shot through Arya’s lower belly.

“Mmm-Hm, I believe you.” Sandor said as he released her lip and then ran his tongue slowly over her lips with feather light flicks.

Arya gasped and Sandor used the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. Arya shivered. Sandor leaned over the center console and pulled her roughly to him and began to tongue her fiercely. Arya was somehow not prepared for his ardor and moaned deeply against his mouth. Her obvious pleasure spurred Sandor on.

He gently pulled her hair back until her throat was arched to him. He started licking and sucking her neck very slowly. His other hand was at the base of her throat holding her firmly in place. Arya took hold of his hand and moved it down to her breast. Sandor watched as her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted. Soft breaths were escaping her lips. Sandor rubbed her nipple between his fingers.

“Sandor.” Arya whispered with a breathy little moan. Gods! She was making him hot.

“Ohhh.” She moaned again. She pushed Sandor back. “Recline your seat, Sandor.”

Sandor did as he was told. Arya climbed over the console and straddled his lap facing him.

“This might not be the smartest move, Arya. The cops patrol this park.” He glanced around nervously.

“Shut up, Sandor.” Arya pulled off her shirt and her camisole. She took her breasts in her hands and rubbed them against his rough stubble. She teased his lips with her tit and he opened his mouth for her and she put it between his lips. “Here you go, Baby.” He forgot all about protesting.

Arya was moaning as she ground herself on Sandor erection and he sucked on her tit. Sandor had his hands on her waist and was helping her to grind on him just like he liked. Arya threw her head back and closed her eyes. She thought she heard a noise from outside the vehicle. She opened one eye and a man was peering in the passenger window at them. At the same time there was a loud tap on Sandor’s window. Arya yelped.

Sandor sat up quickly. Arya threw her arms over her nakedness. Sergeant Tarth was at Sandor’s window. She tapped it again with her flashlight. Sandor pushed the button to roll it down. Officer Payne had come around to Sandor’s window too.

“Excuse me, Ser. Uh, this is not the place for this type of behavior.” Sergeant Tarth shone her flashlight on Arya. “Oh, Lady Arya. What are you doing here with this man?” She turned her flashlight into Sandor’s eyes. “What are you doing here with this young girl?”

“What does it look like I’m doing with her?”

“You are being terribly inappropriate?”

“Aye, that’s what I’m doing.” Sandor smirked.

"Arya, step out of the vehicle and come with us. We will take you to safety.”

Officer Payne was grinning at Arya again from ear to ear. “I see you still like to get in trouble.” He commented.

“Sergeant Tarth, would you please tell your officer to keep his eyes to himself!” Sandor roared. “Tell him to stop ogling my girlfriend!”

“Girlfriend?” Sergeant Tarth repeated.

Arya was still straddling Sandor’s lap and covering her breasts with her folded arms. For some reason, she thought this whole thing was funny and she started to laugh.

“I told you this wasn’t a good idea.” Sandor said to Arya as he smiled at her foolishly.

“I don’t understand.” Sergeant Tarth said. “She must certainly be underage. You have no business being with her.”

“Oh, she’s over 18.” Officer Payne spoke up.

“Is that true, Lady Arya. Are you over 18?”

Arya nodded.

“Is this man coercing you in any way?”

“It looks like she was coercing him.” Office Payne opined.

“Shut up, Pod! I’m conducting an investigation here.” Sergeant Tarth exclaimed.

Arya leaned forward and kissed Sandor’s forehead. “Everything’s fine. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Sergeant Tarth looked perplexed. “In that case, I have to tell you both that this is not the place for this type of behavior. It is considered public indecency. I suggest you find other accommodations if you wish to continue with what you were doing.”

“In other words, get a room.” Officer Payne grinned again.

When they arrived back at Arya’s, Gendry and Hot Pie were gone. As soon as they got in the door, Arya fell down laughing.

“Arya! We could have been arrested.”

“Well, if you have to be arrested, that’s probably the best thing to be arrested for.”

Sandor gathered Arya in his arms. “You know you’re crazy, right?” He laughed.

“I’m crazy for you, Sandor.” Sandor looked pleased. He picked Arya up and carried her into the bedroom.

Sandor gently laid Arya on the bed. He bent down to get onto the bed with her when he spotted some scrapes on her thighs. “Arya, what happened to your legs?"

“Oh, I got that climbing the tree.”

“Climbing the tree?”

“How else do you think I breached the fence?”

“Breached the . . . Arya!” Sandor went off to the bathroom and brought back some Bacitracin and a washcloth.

Arya sat up on the edge of the bed and Sandor knelt before her on the floor and wiped off her scrapes and rubbed the antibiotic cream on them. He wiped his hands off and then looked at her. He suddenly looked very serious. He put his hands on the waistband of her shorts. “Arya?”

She nodded. He pulled her shorts and underwear off carefully. He looked down at her nakedness and it sent a jolt of pure desire right through him. He looked back at her in wonder. “Are you sure, Arya?”

She nodded again.The look on his face touched her. He looked nervous and excited. She took hold of his chin and brought his face to hers and kissed him. He leaned into her kiss as his hands rested on her upper thighs and his thumbs began to circle on either side of her clit. She kissed him breathlessly and she unconsciously opened her legs wide for him.

Her hips began to roll towards him. After a time, she began to kick up a fuss. He was not touching her where she wanted. “Easy, Girl, easy. I’ll get there. Just trust me.”

She growled in response. His thumbs slipped down to her entrance and he massaged her there. He drew his thumbs back over her folds and her clit and then back again over and over. He thumbed her clit and slipped his finger inside her. He licked and sucked on her neck but she noticed he angled his head so he could watch what he was doing. Arya moaned and then whined against his temple. He heard her plea. He pulled away from her throat and bent down to take care of her properly.

Arya reclined back on her elbows and watched him as he began to give her the kneeling kiss. He removed his finger and lapped at her. He was gentle and maddeningly slow at first. Oh, he was cruel! It was torture! Oh! He was doing lascivious things with his mouth and his tongue.

He would close his eyes periodically as he got lost in what he was doing but mostly he was watching her reactions. Arya was transfixed by him. Not only did it feel incredibly good, it was the way he was looking at her that was heating her blood. He was watching her watch him and it was so incredibly lewd. He couldn’t keep his heavy-lidded, seductive brown eyes off her face while he was licking her and lapping at her and fucking her with his tongue.

He lifted her legs over his shoulders and quickened his pace. He had better access and his tongue went deeper. She swallowed hard and tipped her head back. She stopped thinking and just let herself feel. Sandor took her higher and higher. Back and forth he went from her entrance to her clit. Round and round and round he went. He used his fingers and tongue in concert and Arya couldn’t catch her breath. His arms were tightly wrapped around her thighs and she couldn’t move. He had her exactly where he wanted her.

“My Girl.” She heard him whisper against her. “My fine Girl.” He breathed.

The warmth in her lower belly rose up until it engulfed her. She began to tremble and shake. She gasped as she tried to hold on. She called out as her muscles began to spasm and clench uncontrollably. “Sandor! Sandor! Oh!” she moaned before she lost control completely.

Sandor was there all around her. He was lying on the bed beside her and he was holding her tight. He kissed her hair. “Arya, tell me you are mine.”

Arya was still struggling to catch her breath. Oh Gods, she wanted to say it. She really did. Instead, she slipped her hand down his shorts and stroked him until he came without hardly any effort at all. Sandor’s eyes were closed and the expression on his face was glorious. Arya stared at him. She loved the way he never even tried to rule his face. Whatever he was feeling was just there out in the open for her to see. He opened his eyes and looked at her. Her heart fluttered. It scared her badly, this terrible tender feeling she realized she had for him.

Arya was awakened after midnight by laughter and loud voices. She sat up and listened and realized Gendry and Hot Pie and some other people were in the living room. She got up and got dressed and went out to see what was up. She left Sandor asleep on the bed.

“Hey, Arry.” Gendry said.

He got up from the floor and brought her over to where Hot Pie and another man and three women were sprawled out on the sofa and floor. They were all drunk except for Hot Pie. Gendry introduced her to everyone. Arya asked if they were hungry. She was starved. She forgot to eat dinner. She made everyone some lamb pitas with yogurt sauce from some leftover lamb she had. They put on some music but Arya told them to keep it down. She didn’t want them to wake Sandor.

They managed to wake him anyway. Sandor came out of the bedroom. He stood over and glared at the man on the sofa until he got the message and moved. Sandor sat down. He did not look happy.

The woman named Jennie said, “Whoops! We didn’t mean to wake your Dad.”

Arya walked over to Sandor and put a pita in his hand. She then proceeded to sit on his knee. “Oh, Daddy doesn’t mind. Do you, Daddy?” Sandor grunted and put his arm around Arya’s waist.

Gendry and Hot Pie exchanged surprised glances.

“Sandor, this is Gendry.” Arya said.

“That was a sweet joke you played on me the other day, Gendry.” Sandor remarked.

Gendry looked a little intimidated. “Oh, ha, yeah. About that, I didn’t mean anything by it. I didn’t know who you were.”

‘You know who I am now, right?” Sandor said a little menacingly.

“Oh, yeah. I know who you are now.” Gendry agreed.

After a little while the party started to wind down and a couple of people left.

“Come on, Daddy, let’s go back to bed.” Arya said to Sandor. He followed her into the bedroom. She took off her camouflage vest. It made him upset that she had felt the need to put it on even for a couple of visitors. He got back into bed. Arya went into her closet. When she came out she had on her too short, flouncy skirt.

“Daddy.”

“Little girl?” The only light was coming from the closet so Sandor reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.

“Is that really necessary, Daddy?”

“Yes, the better to see you with, my dear.”

“Oh, I just wanted to tell you I learned about something new this week. I thought you might like it. I’m not sure I can do it but I’m sure going to try.”

“What did you learn, little girl?”

“It’s kind of naughty, Daddy.”

“What is it? You can tell Daddy.”

“It’s called deepthroating, Daddy.”

“ _Oh_?” Daddy’s voice quavered just a little.

Gendry was on his way back from the bathroom. He stopped in front of Arry’s closed bedroom door. He wondered if Arry was really alright. That “special friend” of hers looked mean and nasty. He was much bigger than her too. He wondered if Arry was really safe with that big brute of a man. It was his duty as her friend to check on her he reasoned. He leaned forward and put his ear to her door. Just to make sure everything was alright, mind you. He pressed his ear harder and listened.

_Oh Girl, oh girl, oh girl, oh girl, oh girl, oh girl, oh girl, oh girl, OH GIRL! OH GIRL! OH GIRL! OHHHHHHH!!! GIRRRRRRRL!!! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! ARYA!!! ARYA!!!ARRRRRRYYYYAAA!!!_

Gendry shook his head. He should have known better.

______________________________

Gendry was the only remaining member of the little late night party by the next morning. He made them all pancakes for breakfast. Arya was surprised to see that Sandor made an effort to be half-way civil to Gendry. Maybe the way to Sandor’s heart was through his stomach, Arya thought as she laughed to herself.

Sandor and Arya left the apartment soon after to go to the fairgrounds. Sandor wanted to get in a little practice before the tourney. The fairgrounds were quite busy. Lots of competitors were there with the same idea. Sandor picked up a practice sword and found a sparring partner. Arya watched him for awhile. He was even more impressive than she remembered. He had some serious power in his arms and chest. His long runner’s legs gave him quickness and agility. He was smart enough and experienced enough that he could easily predict his opponent's next move. He would be hard to beat.

Arya drifted over to the archery area. She noted one of the best archers was Sergeant Tarth. Arya was watching her technique with approval when Officer Payne appeared at her shoulder.

“Lady Arya,” he grinned, “how are you today?”

“You can just call me Arya, Officer Payne.”

“I’m Podrick, by the way. Everyone calls me Pod.”

“Sergeant Tarth is very good. Is she favored to win?” Arya asked.

“Well, an archer from the Dornish Marches, Anguy, is the favorite.”

“Pod! I’m out of arrows!” Sergeant Tarth shouted.

“I’ll be right back.” Pod trotted off.

“Ah, Lady Arya.” Sergeant Tarth approached her. “I hope you are well today.”

“I’m fine. Just call me Arya.”

“Yes, well, I know how that is. I would much rather be called Sergeant Tarth than Lady Brienne. You may call me Brienne.”

“You’re from the Island of Tarth?” Arya asked.

Brienne nodded.

“You shoot very well, Brienne. I used to as a child. I haven’t kept up with it in recent years. I remember nothing was better than beating my brothers at it.” Arya smiled.

“Yes, nothing is more satisfying than beating the men.” Brienne agreed.

“Here’s your arrows, Brienne.” Pod handed her the quiver.

Just then Meryn Trant walked by. He stopped to sneer at them. “I don’t even know why you’re here, Tarth. You’re just taking up a spot on the roster in the tourney that a man could have used.”

Brienne’s face turned bright red.

Arya got mad. “Well, if you shoot arrows as well as you shoot guns; you’re the one wasting a spot on the roster.”

He scowled and marched off angrily.

“Excuse me, Arya.” Brienne went back to practice with a determined glint in her eye.

“Brienne won the melee at Bitterbridge, you know.” Pod said.

Arya’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Did she?”

“Yes, she’s no dainty flower.” Pod said with admiration.

“That Trant’s a creep.” Arya said.

“Oh yes, he’s going to get a surprise when he gets ready to leave here today.”

“What’s that?”

“Brienne had his car towed for parking on the grass.”

Arya glanced over. Dozens of cars were parked on the grass. Sandor had parked on the grass.

“Oh, she didn’t have anyone else towed, just him.” Pod laughed.

“Pod, that’s enough.” Brienne chided.

Arya laughed.

An extremely handsome man with flowing blond hair and green eyes strolled up to them. “How’s she doing, Pod?”

“She is in fine form, Ser.”

“I’m Jaime Lannister, by the way.” He flashed his perfect white teeth at Arya.

“I’m Arya Stark.”

“Are you now? I believe I met you long ago.”

“Yes.”

“Do you shoot?” He nodded at the archers.

“Not good enough to compete.”

“Oh, that’s a pity.”

He turned to Brienne. “Wench!” He bellowed.

“What? Can’t you see I’m busy?” Brienne responded.

“I thought I would drop by and give you an opportunity for you to bestow me with your favor before the tourney begins.”

Brienne stopped what she was doing and turned around and stared at Jaime open-mouthed. “If I ever give you a favor to wear, it will be tied around your neck as I strangle you with it.”

Jaime Lannister laughed loud and long.

Arya and Sandor had to leave the fairgrounds after a few hours because Arya had to go to work. Sandor promised to pick her up when her shift was over. It was his last day off before he had to go back to work and they were going to go out to dinner.

Hot Pie greeted her warmly. “Hey, Arya. Gendry and I got jobs at the tourney.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I got a job at one of the food concession stands. I’m going to bake . . . guess what?”

“Pies?”

“Good guess! I might bake some bread too. Gendry’s going to do blacksmithing demonstrations.”

“Oh, that’s great. I didn’t know Gendry was planning to stay this long.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Well, what?”

“Nothing, Arry.” Hot Pie suddenly became busy in the kitchen.

Arya knew that Gendry was truly her friend. It was possible he thought she might need him. It was equally possible he still remained because he had just met a girl. He seemed to have hit it off with Jennie from last night.

Sandor picked her up and drove her home. She took a shower. She was in her bedroom looking through her closet and thinking about what to wear out to dinner. She had been thinking about sex. Lots of people had sex and it didn’t mean a thing. It was probably only Gendry that thought sex was a big commitment. She thought about the ensuing disaster that had happened with him. He told her he loved her for Gods sake and asked her to marry him.

Maybe guys just got carried away a little when they got laid. Even Sandor had asked her last night to tell him that she was his after they had fooled around. She had heard stories that lots of guys said stupid romantic shit they didn’t really mean and promptly forgot about the next day.

“Sandor!” Arya called from her bedroom.

“What?”

“Could you come in here? I need you to do something for me.”

Sandor came into the bedroom. Arya was wrapped in a towel. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to take your clothes off and get on the bed.”

He looked at her like she had lost her mind but he still did what she asked. Arya dropped her towel. She was naked except for a red satin thong.

She mounted that fine Thoroughbred stallion named Sandor and tried to take a ride. Unfortunately, he was a little bit too much horse for her to handle. She tried to ride him, she really did. It just didn’t work. She had tried to grind down on him and take him in but all she got for her trouble was a lot of pain. Finally, she had to stop when Sandor told her she was not only hurting herself but she was hurting him too.

“Arya, I think you said you slept with Gendry just once, is that right?” Sandor still couldn’t believe how much it pleased him that the idiot had not been able to satisfy Arya.

“Yes, I hopped on and the whole thing was over in less than five minutes.” She said angrily.

Sandor once again started thinking about all the pathetic boyfriends she must have had. Then something clicked. She’d gone off to Braavos and was locked away in a temple since she was 14 or 15. Could it be possible that there were no other boyfriends, pathetic or otherwise?

“Arya, was Gendry the only person you ever slept with?”

“Yes, I told you I only had sex once before.”

“No, that’s not what you told me! That’s not what you told me at all! You never said you only did it once.” Sandor got up and put his boxers on and sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled Arya into his arms. She was scowling up a storm. “It’s alright. We can try again later. We don’t have to do it right this minute. We might just need some ah, ah, lubricant is all and maybe a little bit more ah, preparation.”

“Lubricant?” Oh Gods! She really was an idiot. The idea had never even occurred to her. It did make sense. He was awfully big and she was awfully small. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Arya, I never even thought about it.”

She was still scowling.

“Everything’s fine, Girl. We can stop and pick up some on the way out to dinner.” She turned and gave him a dangerous look. He gulped. “I mean, I can pick some up for us.”

“I’m not sure I want to try again tonight.” She grimaced.

“Oh, Arya.” He squeezed her. “We can try again in a day or two or whenever you’re ready.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the apartment door. “That’ll be Gendry.” Arya said.

“Of course.” Sandor sighed.

Sandor got dressed and let him in. Arya came out of the bedroom a couple of minutes later and asked Gendry to go out to dinner with them. Naturally, he accepted.

Later, after returning to the apartment, Gendry went to take a shower. Sandor sat on the sofa with Arya on his lap. Her head was tucked under his chin. Sandor stroked her hair. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“I’m fine, mostly.” She frowned.

“I . . . Girl, I want you to know that I’m really glad I chose your diner for a cup of coffee.” Sandor then stroked her back soothingly. “I’ve never been so happy since I met you. What I’m trying to say is . . . Arya I . . . “

Arya jumped off his lap. “No, Sandor! Don’t say anything else!”

He looked up at her with his soft brown eyes.

“Don’t do it, Sandor.” She pleaded. “I’m not ready.”

Sandor stood. “Alright.” He said carefully.

“I think you should go now. I’m tired. It’s been a really long day. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Arya made her way to the door and opened it for him to leave.

Sandor was confused but he went out into the hallway. Arya stood in the doorway and held her arms up. He bent down and gave her a kiss. He started to say something.

“Shh! Listen! There was the sound of several voices coming from down in the lobby. A woman laughed. “Oh my Gods! It’s Sansa! What’s the point of the buzzer when everyone just lets anyone in?” She turned to Sandor, “Quickly, Sandor. Go up the stairs to the next floor so she won’t see you!”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it!” She hissed. The sounds of voices became louder. “Please, just do it now!”

Sandor made it up the stairs just in time. He listened.

“Sansa! Jon!” He heard Arya exclaim. Then everyone talked at once and then he heard Arya crying. He wasn’t sure why she wanted him to hide but he didn’t like it one bit.

The following day, Sandor had just started his shift when he got a message that Tywin Lannister wanted to see him. Sandor walked with trepidation to his office. He knocked and Lord Tywin gave him permission to enter.

“Did you have a nice holiday, Clegane?” Tywin began. He was sitting at his desk with some paperwork spread out before him.

“Yes.”

“Would you sit down, man?”

“I prefer to stand, if you don’t mind.”

“How long have you provided security for us, Clegane?”

“A little over sixteen years.”

“I suppose you know why I wanted to see you.” Tywin glanced up at him from marking papers with a pen.

“Why don’t you tell me, Ser?” Sandor challenged.

That got Tywin’s attention. He looked Sandor right in the eye with laser-like focus. “What is Arya Stark to you?”

Sandor’s thoughts went around and around in his head. Lie, lie, lie, lie, he said to himself. She’s a friend, a friend of a friend, an acquaintance, Arya who? Whatever you do, don’t tell him the truth. Don’t do it! He had never been much for lying. Sandor sighed. “She’s everything.”

Before Sandor had answered, Tywin had looked back down at his desk. He continued to look at his papers for at least a minute and a half. Finally, he looked up. “That’s the right answer, Clegane. I hope you know what you’re doing. You may go back to work now.”

After Clegane left, Tywin thought about Arya Stark. He had received an emailed application from her late yesterday evening to participate in the melee portion of the tourney. Of course, all forty slots had been filled months ago. If Arya wanted to be in the tourney, though, he would bump someone else to give her a chance. What was the point of having power if you can’t use it when you want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure Gendry learned his lesson. You should never eavesdrop! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	16. Family

Arya was ashamed she’d let her emotions get away from her like that. When she’d seen Jon she'd cried like a baby. This was the first time she’d seen him since she’d returned from Braavos. She’d seen everyone else since then except Theon. She’d had some time to recover from her injuries before she saw them and she’d been completely able to rule her face. Her family had been none the wiser that she had been injured. As far as they knew, the House of Black and White was just an ordinary school. They didn’t know the truth. She was determined to keep it that way.

Arya ushered Sansa and Jon into her apartment. It didn’t seem possible but Sansa looked ever more chic and fashionable than ever. She took a seat on Arya’s sofa just as Arya tried to warn her not to sit there. It was too late. The cushion gave way and Sansa slipped right into the hole in the sofa.

“Awk!” Sansa exclaimed.

Arya and Jon reached to pull her out.

“Arya! What just happened?” Sansa demanded.

“Well, Sansa, I hate to be the one to tell you but you really need to lay off the lemon cakes.” Arya said with as much seriousness as she could muster.

“What!” Sansa turned bright red and the look on her face was priceless.

Arya and Jon looked from Sansa to each other and then started laughing hysterically. After a moment, Sansa started laughing too. “That’s not funny, Arya!” She exclaimed.

“Is anyone going to explain why you’re here?” Arya asked after everyone had found a safe place to sit. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“We wanted to surprise you.” Sansa smiled.

“Well, you certainly did that.”

Just then Gendry came strolling out of the bathroom after his shower. He was shirtless but at least he had on shorts. Arya could see Jon begin to bristle out of the corner of her eye. “What’s he doing here?” Jon asked.

“Shh, Jon, it really isn’t any of our business.” Sansa chastised him.

“I thought they weren’t together anymore.” Jon insisted.

Arya reassured Jon. “Relax; he’s only visiting for a few days.”

“Uh, guys, I am in the room. I can hear you talking about me. Besides, I’m not her boyfriend. She’s got-“

Arya cut him off as she started having a coughing fit and leapt up from the sofa. She grasped Gendry’s shoulders, “Gendry,” she coughed again and then leaned close to his ear and said quietly enough so only he could hear, “shut up.” She coughed again. “Could you get me a drink of water?” She asked loudly.

Gendry rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen.

“Are you alright, Arya?” Jon asked with concern.

“Uh, yeah, I’m just getting over a slight cold.”

. . . . .

The next day Arya and her siblings met up at her apartment before going to breakfast together. Jon had rented a car. He and Sansa were staying at a downtown hotel. Jon almost sat on the broken section of sofa but remembered just in time. “Arya, why are you living like this?”

Arya and Sansa exchanged glances. Sansa knew the answer but no one had told Jon.

“What difference does it make? This apartment is only temporary.” Arya shrugged.

He looked at her strangely. “You really do need a new sofa, Arya.”

“Where’s Gendry?” Sansa interrupted. “Isn’t he coming with us to breakfast?”

“No, he had to go help set up the blacksmith shop at the fairgrounds.” Arya informed them.

Jon sighed. “I sure wish I could have been in the tourney.”

“You’ll just have to play the maiden and give your favor to Ygritte.” Sansa laughed.

“Who’s Ygritte?” Arya looked at Jon.

Jon blushed. “She’s a friend of mine.”

Sansa laughed again. “A friend?”

“OK, she’s my girlfriend.” Jon admitted. “She’s going to be in the tourney. She’s an archer.”

Arya looked at the two of them. “So, you’re going to the archery competition, then?”

“Not just the archery; I got us tickets for all three days of the event.” Sansa beamed.

The tourney consisted of archery on the first day, the melee on the second day and the joust on the final day. They were going to get in the way of her plans Arya realized. She’d worry about it later. She looked at Jon, “Hey, did you come here to see me or to watch Ygritte compete?”

Jon grinned with all of his considerable charm. “Both?”

During breakfast at the Waffle Hut, Sansa revealed they would be having dinner the next evening with Aunt Lysa, Lysa’s husband, Petyr Baelish and Lysa’s son, Robin Arryn. They would be in town to attend the tourney as well.

“What! No! I’m not going.” Arya crossed her arms.

Sansa shook her head. “A little kissing up on your part wouldn’t hurt, Arya. You are terrible at strategizing.”

“I’ll strategize her face!”

“Arya!” Sansa chided.

Jon looked at them both. “What’s going on? Why should you have to kiss up to your Aunt Lysa?”

Arya didn’t answer so Sansa informed him, “Arya and Aunt Lysa are having a little monetary dispute.”

“What! Is that why you’re living like that?” Jon squawked.

Sansa put her hand on his arm, “I’m sure they are going to have it all worked out by the time school starts. Isn’t that right, Arya?”

Arya grumbled but nodded her head. They went on to talk about Bran and Rickon, Sansa’s design school and Jon’s duties at the Wall. Arya talked about her job and Hot Pie and Gendry. Arya had to wait to meet Ygritte because she wasn’t arriving until the following day.

“Oh my goodness, look at the time!” Sansa pushed them all out the door of the restaurant. “Arya and I have some shopping to do before she goes to work.”

Jon suddenly decided he had jet lag and was in desperate need of a nap so they dropped him off back at the hotel. Arya tried desperately to think of an excuse herself but Sansa wasn’t about to let her get away.

“You’re coming with me and will do as I say!” Sansa pronounced in that queenly manner of hers.

Sansa managed to drag Arya to an exclusive boutique dress shop to buy a dress for dinner with their aunt, two pairs of heels and various accoutrements. She even paid for it all.

“Sansa, I can’t let you buy me all of this!”

“Just behave yourself. That’s payment enough.” Sansa waved her off. “Just think of me as your fairy godmother. No, that’s not right. I have it! I’m your fairy godsister.”

. . . . .

After a lovely dinner at the Drowned God, courtesy of Jon, they all went back to Arya’s apartment. They talked about old times and laughed and joked. Jon was still eyeing Gendry suspiciously but since he and Arya had not displayed any overt affection, he decided to relax. All four of them sat on the floor around the beat up coffee table and played cards.

The conversation took a serious turn when they started to talk about Bran. They talked about when he had his accident. He had been paralyzed and was in a coma when a catspaw assassin had tried to kill him with a dagger. Their family definitely had more than their share of trauma.

“I have the catspaw Valyrian steel dagger now. Bran gave it to me.” Arya told Jon. “He told me Petyr gifted it to him. What’s the story on the dagger again? I can’t remember.”

“The catspaw assassin tried to kill Bran. It turns out the dagger he tried to use belonged to Petyr. He lost it in a card game to Tyrion Lannister. That’s why mother always despised Tyrion because she thought he had something to do with the assassination attempt on Bran. She decided he must have given it to the assassin to use.” Sansa explained.

Arya thought for a moment. “If the assassin left it behind, how did Petyr get it back?”

“Mother showed it to him and he explained about the card game and she returned the dagger to him.” Sansa shuddered. “I never understood why Uncle Petyr then turned around and gave it to Bran. Why would he want it in the first place? Why would you want the dagger someone had tried to kill you with?”

“Littlefinger is more than a little creepy.” Arya's lip curled in disgust.

“Well, Petyr always had a crush on your mother. He doesn’t have any children of his own so maybe he thought giving his dagger to Bran was a loving gesture? Kind of like giving it to the son he never had type of thing.” Jon theorized.

“Are you kidding, Jon? We are talking about Petyr Baelish here.” Arya stared at Jon incredulously. “Did anyone ever confront Tyrion about the dagger and ask him how it came to be in the hands of the catspaw assassin?” Arya asked.

“I think mother did and he claimed he knew nothing about the dagger.” Sansa mused.

Arya chewed her bottom lip. “Interesting.”

. . . . .

Sandor waited for Arya’s call. She told him she would call him. He knew she was busy with her family. He was busy too. Since Tywin Lannister sponsored the King’s Hand Tourney every year, Sandor had to put in a lot of overtime helping to prepare for it. Not only that, he had to practice for the competition itself. He’d really been neglecting practicing lately. Arya had been a big distraction. His survivalist trip had taken a lot out of him too. It was getting late. His phone remained silent.

Late that evening, Arya’s phone chimed. She glanced at the text but chose to ignore it. She put her phone face down on the table and glanced up to see Gendry watching her. He lifted his eyebrow and gave her a questioning look. Arya frowned and gave him a slight shake of her head.

Sandor was reclining on his bed. He waited for Arya to respond to his text. She never responded so he tried again. About ten minutes after that he called her but she didn’t pick up so he left her a voicemail.

_Arya, I realize you’re busy with your family. I hope you’re having a good time with them. I know you really missed them. I’ve got to get some sleep now. I miss you. Goodnight._

. . . . .

It was the day before the tourney was to begin. Sandor had been at the fairgrounds all morning practicing for the competition. Lord Tywin expected him to do well. He expected all seven men participating from the security team to represent the family along with himself and his son, Ser Jaime. Sandor took a break for lunch and checked his phone. There was nothing from Arya.

Sansa arrived bright and early at Arya’s apartment. “Hurry up! I need you to come with me to do something before you have to go to work.”

Arya grumbled but threw on some old clothes and followed her sister. Sansa took her to a salon and announced dramatically, “It’s an emergency, give her the works!”

Arya was filed and plucked and buffed and waxed and shorn within an inch of her life. The salon must have been operated as a subsidiary business by the Faceless Men. Arya was sure of it. If they couldn’t kill you, it wasn’t from lack of trying.

As soon as Arya was able to escape, Sansa rushed her into the car and started speeding. “Darn your work schedule, Arya. It is making this so difficult.”

“Well, I have to work Sansa. I like to eat. Besides, I’m already taking three days off in a row for the tourney.”

“Come on, come on,” Sansa yelled at the traffic. Arya realized they were headed for Sansa’s hotel when she dropped a bomb on Arya without warning. “Oh, by the way, we’re all going to the Feast on Sunday night after the tourney is over.”

“What!” Arya yelped. “Surely, you can’t be serious!”

“I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley.” Sansa snickered.

Arya groaned. She wanted to kill her. The Feast was a formal affair. You had to wear a gown. There was no way that was going to happen by Sunday night. It was already Thursday morning. She followed Sansa up to her room. Sansa opened the door and the first thing Arya saw was a gorgeous crimson ball gown with a plunging neckline and a full skirt. It was hanging from the curtain rod. Arya walked towards it. It was spectacular.

“Oh, Sansa. You will look so beautiful in this!" Arya exclaimed.

“Silly girl, red-heads can’t wear this color. This is your dress.”

“What?”

“Surprise! I hope you like it. I made it myself.”

Arya’s eyes started to water. “Oh, Sansa, you really are my fairy godsister.”

Sansa’s eyes were watering too. “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo.”

. . . . .

Later that afternoon, Jon picked Arya up from work. He drove her over to the hotel. She could tell he was nervous about her meeting his girlfriend. It must be serious, she surmised. Ygritte wasn’t anything like Arya expected. She had red hair, blue eyes, and lots of freckles. She was loud and amusing and sassed Jon. Arya liked her right away. She looked like she could handle herself in about any situation. She admired Sansa’s and Arya’s dresses and complimented Sansa’s design and sewing skills.

Arya noticed a matching crimson ribbon looped around the hanger with her dress. “What’s this, Sansa?”

“It’s a ribbon for your hair.”

Arya fingered the soft, satiny texture of the ribbon. It was perfect.

After the three women were finished getting dressed for dinner, they went over to Jon’s room. Arya walked in and did a double take when she saw Gendry. He was wearing a suit and a tie and had a fresh haircut. Arya was shocked. She may have underestimated his sex appeal. He cleaned up _very_ nicely.

“I didn’t know you were coming to dinner with us.” Arya said to him. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t look at me.” He pointed to Sansa. “This was all her doing.”

Sansa shrugged her shoulders. “What? We needed an even number for dinner, that’s all.”

They met Aunt Lysa, Uncle Petyr and Lysa’s son Robin at the Red Woman restaurant. Aunt Lysa looked at them all disapprovingly. Robin was quiet as a mouse. Littlefinger was his usual smarmy self. He fawned over them all with insincerity. Aunt Lysa launched into a diatribe about all her trials and tribulations. It was hard to believe she was their mother’s sister.

To his credit, Uncle Petyr did try to calm his wife down and change the subject. Aunt Lysa pointedly went on to tell them that she was only expecting Jon, Sansa and Arya making Ygritte and Gendry feel unwelcome. She referred to Sansa’s design schooling as “playing dress up” then she looked down her long nose at Arya.

“And you,” she said disdainfully, “what have you been doing?” Everyone at the table turned to look at Arya.

“Oh, you know this and that.” Arya shrugged.

“That’s not an answer, young lady.”

“That’s all the answer I’m giving you.” Arya shot back.

Aunt Lysa scowled but she wasn’t finished yet. She turned her ire on Jon and dismissed the importance of his work and the Marines in particular.

Jon got angry. “Protecting the Wall is vital to the realm.”

Uncle Petyr interrupted. “The realm? Do you know what the realm is? It’s the thousands of blades of Aegon’s enemies. A story we agree to tell each other over and over again until we forget that it’s a lie.”

Jon argued back, “But what do we have left once we abandon the lie? Chaos? A gaping pit waiting to swallow us all?”

“Chaos isn’t a pit. Chaos is a ladder.” Petyr’s eyes gleamed. “Many who try to climb it fail and never get a chance to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb. They refuse; they cling to the realm or the gods or love. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is.”

Everyone was staring at Petyr uncomfortably. Creepy didn't even begin to describe him.

Petyr noticed and grinned. “Or so I’ve heard. It’s a subversive theory, don’t you think?” He shuddered impressively. “I admit I sometimes get carried away and like to get a little theatrical.” He laughed. “I can’t resist the point and counterpoint of a good debate even if the counterpoint is rubbish. It still delights me to no end to argue.”

He could try and back track his belief in that statement all he wants, Arya thought but she knew better. She remembered his conversation at Harrenhal with Tywin Lannister long ago. They had been discussing military tactics and Littlefinger had expressed something almost identical.

After dinner, the siblings along with Ygritte and Gendry went back to the hotel. They had a little swim to cool off. Sansa only had a bikini to loan to Arya so Arya wore a T-shirt over it. She told them it was necessary because the cups were too big and she was liable to fall out and get arrested for public indecency. She laughed and then glanced around nervously to make sure Sergeant Tarth wasn’t lurking around nearby.

They went up to Jon’s room and had a couple of drinks but Arya and Gendry didn’t stay long. The tourney began bright and early in the morning and Ygritte had to get some rest. Arya and Gendry took an Uber back to Arya’s. Arya’s phone had chimed while she was sitting next to Gendry in the backseat but she ignored it. It chimed again when she got inside her apartment.

Arya flopped on the sofa and turned on the TV. Gendry stood looking down on her. “What are you doing, Arya?”

Arya glanced up at him. “I’m watching TV.”

Gendry sat down beside her. “You know what I mean, Arya. You told me you had feelings for him.”

Arya frowned and looked away. Damn that Gendry. Everyone thought of him as a dumb bull but he really wasn’t dumb at all. “It’s complicated.” She said.

“Is it really? Or are you just running away from your feelings like usual?”

“Shut up, Gendry.” She stood up and her phone chimed again.

“Call him, Arya.” Gendry said softly.

Arya flounced off in a huff and went into her bedroom and closed the door with a bang. She sat on her bed in the dark and read her texts from Sandor. She called him.

"Hey, Sandor. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Arya, I texted you a minute ago. Obviously, I’m awake.”

“Oh. I know you need your rest for the competition tomorrow.”

Sandor didn’t respond.

“I suppose you’ve been busy getting ready.”

“Arya, I had to listen to all that talk about me being ashamed to be with you,” he paused, “but the truth of the matter is I think you’re ashamed to be with me.”

Arya squeezed her eyes shut. “That’s not it, Sandor. I just need some time alone with my family is all.”

“Does that time alone with them include Gendry?”

“Well . . .”

“That’s what I thought. How come he’s allowed to be there and I’m not? Have you even told them about me?”

Arya didn’t answer.

“So you didn’t tell them about me. You have no intention of introducing me as your boyfriend. So you just expect me to wait in the shadows until they leave and then just go back to the way things were like nothing happened?”

No, that’s not what she expected. She had expected to ease back away from him and his _feelings_. “I’m not ashamed of you, Sandor.”

“Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Sandor, stop it! It’s not that at all.”

“Then what is it?”

It took her a long time to answer. “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what? Are you afraid of what you’re family will think of me?”

“No, that’s not it. I would never let them tell me what to do or who I could be with or not be with.”

“Then what are you afraid of? You’re not afraid of me, are you? I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know that, Sandor.” That wasn’t the problem. “Can we just talk tomorrow?”

“Arya.”

“What is it, Sandor?”

“I need you.”

Arya grimaced. He shouldn’t say things like that. He just shouldn’t. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She disconnected the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	17. A Job to Do

They arrived early for the tourney because of Ygritte. Hot Pie had already picked up Gendry because he had to be there even earlier. Arya made the excuse to Sansa and Jon that she was going to the forge to see Gendry. Instead, she asked around until she found Sandor. His tent displayed the sigil for House Clegane. House Clegane was three black dogs on a yellow field. Master Luwin had drilled everyone’s sigil into Arya’s head enough times that she still remembered it.

Arya hesitated; the tent was essentially a dressing room. Finally, someone exited. “Is Clegane in there?” She asked.

He gave her an exasperated look but he turned around and went back inside. A minute later Sandor came out. He looked truly magnificent. He was wearing the traditional Kingsguard regalia of white frosted armor chased with silver. White enameled scales covered his shoulders and arms. Arya took it all in. The clothing combined with his height and build made him look breathtaking. He even had on the long white cloak. She was stunned speechless.

Sandor smirked. He turned around to give her the full effect. “Do you like what you see?”

Oh, she liked what she saw. Warmth flooded her body. She couldn’t even speak. He took her arm and led her over to the stables. No one was around and he lifted her like she weighed nothing and pinned her between the stable wall and his body. He looked down in her eyes and he must have liked what he found there because before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her. Arya felt fire in her lower belly and she couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

They were interrupted by voices as someone came in the stable from the opposite door. Sandor pulled away and dropped her down to her feet. “Come and meet Stranger.”

Sandor led her over to the tallest horse she’d ever seen. He was a velvety black Percheron stallion. “Don’t try to touch him; he’s not all that friendly.” Sandor warned. Sandor patted him and nuzzled against the horse’s face.

"I didn’t know you had a horse.”

“I stable him with the Baratheon and Lannister horses.” He released Stranger and turned to look at her. “Shouldn’t you be with your family?” He asked with a touch of anger.

“Yes,” she answered flatly. He’d upset her. “I should get back to them. I just came by to wish you luck in the tourney.”

He nodded. He was frowning but his eyes were soft.

She could feel herself getting choked up. “You didn’t think I came to give you my favor, did you?” She tried to laugh.

Sandor looked away. “Of course not.”

“Well, you’d be wrong then.” Arya reached into a pocket in her vest and took out the slender, crimson ribbon Sansa had made for her hair. “Will you accept my favor, Sandor?”

Sandor nodded because he couldn’t speak.

She tied it to his arm.

. . . . .

Arya rejoined Sansa and Jon. Luckily, they weren’t sitting next to Aunt Lysa but Uncle Petyr caught a glimpse of them and waved. Two men dressed in medieval costume began to blow trumpets and the opening ceremony began. Lord Twyin rode into the arena on his big white Andalusian horse followed by Ser Jaime, Lord Tyrion, Lady Cersei, and her children, Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella. The Kingsguard was next led by Barristan Selmy. Sandor and the remainder of the Kingsguard followed. Arya thought Sandor looked dashing. The heads of the other attending Houses were next. Their sigils were proudly displayed.

Lord Tywin gave a welcoming speech and introduced this year’s honorary hand, Jason Mallister, Lord of Seagard. Arya remembered her mother thought he was handsome. He was an older man with indigo armor chased with silver and his helm was decorated with the wings of an eagle. He gave a small speech of thanks and the trumpets blew as they retreated from the field.

Arya had been impressed when she was a child and she was still impressed. She couldn’t wait for the tourney to begin. There were forty archers and it soon became apparent that Ygritte was extremely skilled.

“Jon, Ygritte is great.” Sansa smiled. “She may be better than you.”

Jon beamed. “I know. We practice together and she is far better than me.”

Arya was pleased to hear the pride in his voice. “Why aren’t you competing, Jon?” She asked.

“I’m not at competition level any more. I quit practicing for too long and I’ve lost my touch.”

Arya punched his shoulder, “I’m sure Ygritte will whip you back in shape in no time.” Arya started to worry. She’d quit practicing fighting since she’d met Sandor. She used to go to the local martial arts dojo pretty regularly but she’d slacked off. She hoped she still knew what she was doing.

The archery contest went on until noon and then there was a two hour lunch break. The contest resumed in the afternoon. There were plenty of food stands and long tables and benches set up but since everyone was trying to get lunch at the same time, it was a bit of a crush. Arya found Hot Pie. His face was bright red from the heat of the kitchen. He made them a meat and vegetable pie and a loaf of bread shaped like a direwolf. Arya jumped up from the table and hugged him.

“It’s no big deal, Arry. I’m glad you like it.” He grinned.

They went over to the forge next. Gendry was sweaty, dirty and shirtless and wearing a big leather apron. Arya liked him better like this than in a shirt and tie. While Sansa and Jon were distracted he leaned over the safety barricade to talk in her ear. The sound of metal hammering metal was very loud.

“You’ll have to come to Tobho’s shop tonight in case I have to do any last minute adjustments.”

Arya nodded.

Next, they went over to the House Stark tent. Jon was shaking hands with Rodrik Cassel and Harwin when Arya got Jory Cassel alone off to the side.

“Lady Arya. It's been so long since I've seen you.”

Arya smiled. “Jory, I missed you.” She hugged him and he blushed. “Do you think you could do me a little favor?”

“Anything for you, Lady Arya.”

“Would you happen to have a spare cloak I could borrow tomorrow?"

“Well now . . .”

“I would only need it for tomorrow morning.”

“I think we could manage that.” He glanced over at Jon. “Why do you need it?”

"It’s a surprise. Don’t say anything to anyone. I’ll be here tomorrow morning to pick it up before the melee.” She whispered conspiratorially.

He whispered back. “See you then.”

They made it back to their seats just in time. Sandor came in at ninth place. Arya was impressed. She didn’t remember seeing him shoot as a little girl and she had no idea he was that good. Ser Balon Swann came in fifth and Ser Jaime came in fourth. Brienne, Ygritte and the favorite, Anguy, went at it. Anguy went down and then it was between Brienne and Ygritte. Arya was conflicted. She wasn’t sure who she wanted to win. Finally, Ygritte took the honors at 100 paces. Lord Tywin held her arm up high and pronounced her the winner.

They went down to the field and Ygritte came bounding up to them. “Ten thousand gold dragons, Jon Snow! How do you like that?” She jumped into his arms.

Ser Jaime was on the field too and he grabbed Brienne and kissed her right on the mouth. She looked stunned and about to die from embarrassment. Pod was pounding her on the back.

. . . . .

That evening, they had a loud and rousing dinner with their men from Winterfell in downtown King’s Landing. Arya had to claim a headache to get away. She called Gendry and walked over to Tobho Mott’s specialty armor shop and knocked on the door.

Gendry let her in. He looked around outside. “How did you get here?”

“I walked.”

“Arya, this isn’t the safest neighborhood.”

“How’s is going?” She asked.

“Oh, Gendry!” Gendry started talking like a girl and teasing her. He twirled around and curtsied. “Gendry, you are the best blacksmith, ever.” He fluttered his eyelashes as he mocked Arya. “Do you think you could make me a suit of armor in a week? I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem for someone as brilliant and manly as you.”

“Hey, I never said anything about you being brilliant or manly.” Arya protested.

“You’d better. Do you know how much trouble you are, Arya? You gave me a week! Now get over here and try everything on in case I have to make some more adjustments.”

Gendry played her squire and helped her get into and then out of her armor. Luckily, he was still friends with Tobho Mott, his old boss, and was able to use his shop to make Arya’s armor. Gendry hammered and pinched the armor while Arya waited. When everything was perfect, they called an Uber and took everything to Arya’s apartment. She checked her phone before she went to bed. There were no messages from Sandor. She texted him: _Good luck tomorrow! I was happy I got to see you today. Your archery skills are impressive. I had no idea!_

Early the next morning she called Sansa and told her she couldn’t go to the tourney with them because she had a job to do. Hot Pie gave Gendry and her a lift and took them to the fairgrounds. Gendry helped her carry her armor to the House Stark tent.

She caused an uproar. All the men from Winterfell tried to talk her out of competing in the melee. Jory was planning on representing House Stark and told her it was too dangerous. Arya had made up her mind. The both of them could represent the Starks.

Historically, the melee would consist of 48 horsed knights, 24 on each side that charged each other in a free for all. The Hand’s Tourney would only have 40 and they would be on foot. Arya and Jory were suited and booted and ready to throw themselves into the fray. Arya winked at Jory just before putting down her visor.

The trumpet blew and then it was utter confusion and madness. Arya loved it. Everyone was required to use wooden or blunted swords for safety. Arya was using a regular short sword because Needle wasn’t suitable for fighting in an affray of this magnitude. If you were knocked off your feet and received a “blow that was in a vital area likely to cause death” you were out. A lot of people weren’t exactly following that rule. Conditions on the field were pretty brutal.

Arya saw Brienne mowing down opponents left and right in her splendid blue armor. At some point she realized Sandor was beside her. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?” He shouted before he got caught up and drifted away in the fighting.

Jon and Sansa had been transfixed by the little boy fighting with the Stark direwolf sigil on his cloak swirling around him.

“Who could that be?” Sansa wondered out loud.

Jon shrugged. “I don’t know but they’re really good!”

After almost an hour and a half only four competitors were left. Sandor and Brienne and Arya and Thoros of Myr. Brienne took out Sandor in a vicious fist fight after they both lost their swords. Brienne picked up her sword and charged towards Thoros. He sidestepped her and as she stumbled he tapped the back of her neck with his wooden sword and she was out.

It was down to Arya and Thoros. They fought for at least ten more minutes and he managed to knock her sword out of her hand. In an over the top move, Thoros suddenly lit his sword aflame for a more dramatic finale as he prepared to defeat Arya. Unfortunately, he got a little overconfident. Arya pulled out Needle.

“Oh, look Jon. That little Winterfell boy has lost his sword and now he’s fighting with that little skinny one.” Sansa pointed excitedly.

Jon’s eyes focused on the little sword and then on the little Winterfell boy. The little Winterfell boy was the quickest fighter he’d ever seen. The little Winterfell boy was an absolute marvel. The little Winterfell boy’s sword looked awfully familiar.

“Sansa!” Jon clutched her arm.

She turned to look at him with wide eyes. “What is it, Jon?”

“Where’s Arya! I thought you said she had to go to work at the restaurant!”

“What’s the matter? She called me and said she had a job to do and she expected it to be a really rough day.” Sansa frowned remembering how disappointed she was that Arya couldn’t make it.

“Oh my Gods, Sansa! That little Winterfell boy is not a boy!”

“What?”

“That little Winterfell boy is Arya!”

“What? That can’t be. What makes you think that?” Sansa exclaimed as she clutched Jon’s arm.

“Because that sword is Arya’s sword. The sword I gave to her. That sword is Needle.”

Ygritte started to laugh.

They watched as Arya knocked the flaming sword form Thoros’ hand and swept his feet out from under him and pointed Needle’s rubber safety tip at his throat. A deafening cheer rang out from the crowd. Arya had won.

Arya threw off her helm. Her hair was drenched with sweat. She stood breathing heavily with her hands on her knees. Thoros got up and lifted her arm up in the air in victory. Lord Tywin appeared and raised her other arm and exclaimed to the crowd. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the winner of the melee; Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell!” He looked down into her flushed face. “You never disappoint, do you?”

Everyone poured out of the stands and crowded around her. Arya was feeling a little woozy and went down on one knee. Before she knew what was happening, Sandor had pushed everyone out of the way and was carrying her to the Stark tent. Jon and Sansa and their men were crowded around her. She looked around and Sandor was gone.

After she got re-hydrated she was fine. At least that’s what she told her brother and sister. Jon was livid. “Arya, that’s by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done!”

After about an hour, Arya got dressed and put on her camouflage vest. She sent Sansa, Jon and Ygritte to lunch and asked them to bring her back some food. As soon as they left, she got up and made her way to the Lannister tent. She asked for Lord Tyrion.

A man came out of the tent. He was all sweaty and mangled like her. “Hi, I’m Bronn. I’m Lord Tyrion’s bodyguard. I was just in the melee with you. May I shake your hand?”

Arya shook his hand and he escorted her into the tent. Tyrion Lannister was sitting at a table with a Cyvasse game in front of him. He jumped up. “Ah, Lady Arya. I congratulate you. That was some very fine fighting. Very fine. Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“Oh, here and there.” She walked over to the table. “Cyvasse?”

“Yes, a game of warfare and strategy. I plan on winning the Cyvasse tournament after lunch.”

“I would stay and watch but I think I’ll go home and collapse and die shortly.”

He chuckled.

“I’m starting at KLU in the fall. I’m going to be studying medieval history and warfare.”

“Oh, that’s delightful. Perhaps we can play Cyvasse together sometime.” His eyes twinkled.

“I’ve a Valyrian steel dagger. Would you like to see it?”

“Certainly, Lady Arya.”

She glanced at his bodyguard, Bronn, and then slowly opened her vest and removed the dagger. She passed it to Tyrion. He examined it closely. The hilt was plain and there were no markings. “A family piece?” He asked.

Arya watched him carefully. “No, it’s the dagger that was used to try to kill my brother, Bran.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “Oh, no. Not this again. This is not my dagger. I never had possession of it. If anyone,” he looked up at her, “and I mean anyone says different; they are lying.” He handed the dagger back to her.

She put it back in her vest. She had been extensively as well as painfully trained in Braavos to tell a lie from the truth. He was not lying.

“I was just curious. I apologize.” She meant it, too.

“Do you, now?”

“Yes.” She answered definitively.

She left the tent and ran smack into Joffrey.

“Out of my way, girl! Watch where you are going.” He snapped. “Oh, it's you. I thought you fell off the face of the earth awhile ago. You should have stayed lost.”

Jon and Sansa hurried over after they’d seen her.

“Oh, Lady Sansa. It’s so lovely to see you.” He crooned.

Arya got up into his face and bumped her chest into his and sent him sprawling backwards. His security stood at the ready but they didn’t act.

“Don’t talk to me or my sister. You know fighting really gets a person’s blood up. There’s no telling what they might do. They might do anything. But you wouldn’t know that, would you. I didn’t see _you_ in the melee.”

Joffrey looked petrified. Jon and Sansa looked at each other. Jon took Arya’s arm. “Come along, Arya.”

After they walked away, Sansa took her other arm. “Wow, Arya. I was worried there for a minute. I thought you might flatten him.” Arya turned to look at her and Sansa was smiling from ear to ear.

. . . . .

By the time she got home she knew she had overdone it. She begged Sansa, Jon and Ygritte to just let her rest for awhile. They reluctantly left her with the promise to come back later. She sat stupidly staring into space for an hour because it was too much effort to move. Her phone rang. It was Sandor.

“Are you alright, Girl?”

“Not exactly.”

“Do you need me to come over?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“I can’t move very well.”

“I’ll be over shortly.”

Arya shuffled slowly to the door to let him in. He took one look at her and slammed the door behind him and carried her into the bedroom. He gently massaged her shoulders and back. He worked on her arms and legs. She laid there like a jellyfish the whole time. No one ever took care of her like this in the House of Black and White after she’d over-exerted herself. Sandor pulled her into his arms and fell asleep beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	18. I'm No Coward

Arya awoke with Sandor asleep beside her. She propped herself up on her elbow and studied his face. Brienne had bruised him. Apparently, they’d both removed their helms when they got into it. Gods, she was selfish. She’d let him come over and take care of her and she never even asked him how he must be feeling. She did nothing to comfort him. He’d been in the melee almost as long as she had. He must be hurting too.

Sandor had perfectly formed full lips. He had thick, black eyelashes that were particularly noticeable when his eyes were closed and they were fanned out across his skin. He had a strong and masculine jaw. All of those things pleased her but it was so much more than that. It was what was on the inside of him that turned her to mush.

Her feelings for him made her feel vulnerable. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable. What if something were to happen to him? Bad things happened to people all the time. Her family was proof of that. She couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. How could she bear it? He was way too good for her anyway. She was selfish and messed up. How did she ever let things go this far?

She had such tender feelings for him. She wiped her eyes but they kept on leaking. What was wrong with her? She wanted to run away. She wanted to run away and hide. She quietly slipped out of bed and got into the shower. She was a sweaty mess and her bones ached. Besides, the water would disguise her tears and she could pretend they weren’t falling.

Arya sat at her kitchen table drinking a cup of tea. She didn’t usually drink tea but she needed something to calm her nerves. Sandor came out of the bedroom and sat opposite from her.

“How are you, Sandor? Are you alright?”

He smiled ruefully. “Well, I’ve been better. You were right about that Sergeant Tarth. She _was_ big enough to beat me.”

“I’m going to kick her ass.”

Sandor looked at her closely. She didn’t smile and she didn’t appear to be joking. “Arya, you know you can’t do that. Besides, it was all part of the competition. I fought her too. She can’t be feeling all that good right now, either.”

“You know, I actually liked her.” Arya admitted.

He laughed. “You would. Hey, wait a minute. Is all this concern just to soften me up so I won’t yell at you about fighting in the melee?”

Arya’s lip began to tremble. Sandor got up and knelt beside her chair and put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Girl. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was joking.”

“No, you’re right, I am horrible.”

“No, you’re not. You’re far from it. You are the most determined person I know. You’re stubborn and wrong-headed sometimes but I’ve gotten used to it.”

Why was she prolonging this? She knew what she had to do. She took a deep breath. “Sandor, you must realize this is not going to work.”

He stood and looked down on her. She risked a glance at him and wished she had not. She knew it was for the best. It was better to hurt him a little now and get it over with before he got hurt a lot. “I’m sorry for everything. I want you to please leave now.”

He was silent for a moment before he spoke. “You’re making a mistake, Arya. I know it and you know it. You told me you were afraid. I was afraid too in the beginning. I manned up.” She looked up at him and he shook his head. “I never took you for a coward.” He waited a moment and then he walked to the door and paused once more and then he quietly left.

Before she could compose herself, Gendry burst through the door. “What have you done now? I just saw Sandor on the stairs. Do you get off on crushing people?”

Arya fled to her room and locked the door and burrowed down inside her covers and sobbed.

. . . . .

Sansa, Jon and Ygritte came over at dinner time. After one look at Arya, Ygritte and Jon decided to make dinner so they could all stay in for the evening. Arya barely said two words. They assumed she must have been exhausted. Gendry sat beside her on the sofa and supported her by making sure she ate her dinner and deflecting unwanted attention away from her.

Eventually, Jon began to realize something more was going on with Arya than just exhaustion. When Gendry got up, Jon sat down beside Arya and took her hand. “Arya, I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier. I was just concerned for your safety is all. I still love you even though you’re crazy.” He smiled and put his arm around her.

Ygritte grinned. “I have to admit what you did was pretty impressive. I come from a whole clan of fighters and I’m not sure any of them could beat you.”

Sansa patted her knee. “Yes, Arya, remind me not to tease you too much. Your martial arts school really paid off well.”

“You have no idea.” Arya agreed cryptically.

. . . . .

They all arrived at the fairgrounds a little early the next morning. Arya spotted Brienne and excused herself to go talk to her. She stood on the middle rail of the fence looking over at her but then she found she didn’t know what to say.

Finally, Brienne stopped fussing with her horse. “Quit giving me that look. I’ve already apologized.”

“What?”

“I’ve apologized to Clegane. I know I got a little carried away yesterday.” Brienne grumbled.

“You apologized?”

“Yes, damn it. I feel bad enough already. You don’t need to add to it. After I talked to him last night, I realize he isn’t so bad. I suppose I judged him on his looks. If anyone should have known better, it should have been me.”

“You saw him last night?”

“Yeah, we had a couple of drinks together. He seemed sad.” Brienne eyed her speculatively. “I asked him where you were and he got even sadder.”

Arya didn’t respond.

“I know he’s not what you’d call traditionally good looking . . .” Brienne began.

“You take that back! He’s beautiful!” Arya exclaimed angrily.

“Do you really believe that?”

“It’s not a question of whether or not I believe it. It’s just a plain fact.” Arya huffed.

Brienne smiled. “You remind me of someone I know.”

“Who’s that?”

“Jaime Lannister. He’s so crazy; he thinks I’m beautiful too.”

Arya reached over the fence and touched Brienne’s shoulder. “He’s not crazy, Brienne.”

Brienne blushed. “You’re extremely kind, Arya.”

“No,” Arya shook her head, “I’m not.”

“What I’m trying to say is I think Clegane cares about you and maybe the two of you seem weird together like Jaime and me but having someone who loves you is no small thing. At first I couldn’t believe Jaime loved me. I mean look at him and look at me. It turns out its true, though. So the only thing left for me to do was have the courage to accept it.”

. . . . .

It had rained heavily the night before which didn’t make the conditions ideal for the joust. When Cersei went out onto the field on horseback for the opening of ceremonies, the cavalcade of jousting competitors rode by her and thoroughly splattered her with mud.

As Arya tried to hurry to her seat, Aunt Lysa blocked her path. “There you are! What is the meaning of this? Your behavior is appalling!”

Arya’s dark brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Ladies do not participate in tourneys. You are beyond an embarrassment!”

“What do you mean?” Arya asked angrily. “I represented my House and I won!”

Surprisingly, Robin Arryn found his voice. “I think you were great!”

“Shut-up, Sweetrobin! She’s an embarrassment. Isn’t she Petyr?”

Littlefinger had been eyeing her carefully. “There is more to a small slip of a girl than one realized.”

Arya was fed up. “Listen, I’m proud of winning. I brought honor to my House and I don’t really care what you think. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the joust is about to begin and I need to take my seat.”

Arya sat next to Sansa. “The nerve of some people!” She exclaimed.

Sansa looked at her flushed face. “What happened?”

“Aunt Lysa just got hold of me and chastised me for embarrassing her by competing in the tourney.”

“Fuck Aunt Lysa.”

Arya turned and stared and her mouth fell open. She didn’t think she’d ever heard her sister swear. Sansa looked at her expression and giggled.

. . . . .

The way Arya understood the joust was two competitors raced towards each other on horseback with blunted lances. The tilt barrier was a rudimentary fence between the riders to keep them from crashing into each other. The object was to strike your opponent on a reinforced shield attached to their left shoulder. One point was awarded for a strike, five points for a strike if the lance was broken and ten points if the lance was broken and you unseated your opponent.

The weight of both riders and both horses in conjunction with the combined speed of travel of the animals when a strike occurred was equivalent to the impact of an auto accident. It was extremely dangerous. Whoever won the joust was going to win the tourney because the joust was worth the most points. The only way someone could win the tourney without winning the joust was to win both the archery and the melee. First prize was 40,000 gold dragons and the second prize was 20,000 gold dragons. There were 28 contestants.

All three of the men competing for House Stark were eliminated before lunch. Alyn lost to Balon Swann, Harwin was defeated by the nasty Meryn Trant and Jory lost to House Frey. Brienne soundly thumped Meryn Trant which delighted Arya.

Sandor made a nice showing and defeated Renly Baratheon. Lord Tywin succumbed to the honorary hand, Lord Jason Mallister and Ser Jaime looked very fine as he trounced Ser Barristan Selmy, head of the honorary Kingsguard.

The semi-final and final were scheduled in the afternoon. Arya, Sansa, Jon, and Ygritte went to lunch. They ran into Tyrion Lannister and Bronn.

“Oh, Lady Arya, have you heard? I won the Cyvasse tournament yesterday!” Lord Tyrion chirped happily.

“Congratulations, Lord Tyrion. You told me you were going to win. Was there ever any doubt?” Arya teased.

“I’m afraid that was all talk. I admit I was a little worried. You see, I knew I would be up against my father. Fortunately, he turned out to be no match for me. Once you know me better you will realize I am prone to bragging about my tremendous brain power. Isn’t that right, Bronn?”

“Oh, yes. Lord Tyrion is quite full of himself.” Bronn agreed whole-heartedly.

Lord Tyrion bowed. “Good day, Lady Arya, Lady Sansa, other beautiful lady and Jon Snow.”

Jon spoke up, “Ygritte.”

“Oh, yes. Ygritte the archer! Very well done.”

Tyrion and Bronn went on their way and Jon and Sansa looked at Arya oddly but she just shrugged her shoulders and led them to Hot Pie.

Hot Pie smiled cheerfully and took their order. “Congratulations on the melee, Arya. What are you going to do with your 20,000 gold dragons?”

“What?” Arya had forgotten about the money. “I don’t know.”

As they were finishing their lunch at one of the long tables, Pod suddenly plopped down beside Arya. “Arya! Good to see you. Are you going to be at the Feast tonight?”

“Yes, I plan on it.”

“I’m going to sing.” He smiled his big wide smile.

“Oh, Pod, that’s great. I can’t wait to see you there.”

“Well, I’ve got to get back to Brienne now. I’m her squire.” He said proudly.

“Yes, she won’t be able to do a thing without your help.” Arya grinned.

Next, they visited the House Stark tent and consoled their men until it was time to get back to their seats.

First up were Thoros of Myr and Lord Beric Dondarrion. Arya thought Lord Beric was quite swashbuckling with his eye-patch and cocky manner. Alas, Thoros once again surprised her as his lance splintered on Lord Beric’s shield.

The semi-final was between Sandor and Ser Jaime and Brienne and Thoros. Brienne may have held a slight grudge against Thoros for beating her in the melee. Not only did she crack her lance on him she unseated him from his horse.

Ser Jaime and Sandor faced off next. The Lion and the Hound.

Sansa grabbed Arya’s arm. “Oh, look, Arya! There’s the Hound. Do you remember the last time when we were here and he won the tourney? Do you remember how Loras Tyrell yielded the match to him in gratitude for saving him from the Mountain? The Hound fought his horrible brother and saved Loras. The Hound was so gallant!”

Arya didn’t answer so Sansa turned to look at her.

“Yeah, sure. I remember.” Arya agreed.

“You know, I think the Hound liked my Tully-red hair. I remember catching him looking at me more than once when I visited the Red Keep after I was older.”

“Is that so?” Arya scowled.

Sandor and Ser Jaime charged towards each other and Ser Jaime went flying. Obviously, Sandor was not playing and wasn’t about to be outdone by Brienne. Sandor was determined to win on his own merits this time and not because someone yielded to him.

It was time for the final. Arya was on the edge of her seat. She knew Sandor could do it. No one was stronger or more skilled than him. Sandor and Brienne lined up. They charged. Sandor’s lance cracked and broke apart into a million pieces as it struck Brienne’s shield. He had won.

Sandor rode towards the stands. “I wonder who is going to be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty.” Sansa asked. For some reason, Arya totally forgot about the crown. It hadn’t been given the last time she had attended. She started to panic.

“I wonder if the Hound has a girlfriend. Can you imagine?” Sansa gave a short laugh.

“Why shouldn’t he have a girlfriend?” Arya growled.

Sansa didn’t notice. “I mean, look at him. Besides the fact that he’s so mean, who would want him? He’ll probably have to pick some random girl out of the crowd.”

Arya was very angry now.

Sandor rode up close to the stands in all his armored glory. He looked very large and very imposing. Cersei looped the crown of flowers over his saddle pommel as he stopped in front of her and bowed. Sandor pushed up his visor and looked up into the stands.

“Oh, no! Don’t look now, Arya! He’s looking our way! You don’t think he would pick me, do you? Oh, no!”

“Arya!” Sandor called. He was removing his gauntlets.

Arya desperately did not want to be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty. It was preposterous! She was no beauty. But by Gods, if he wanted to crown her, she would let him. She would not see him embarrassed and humiliated in front of all these people by refusing!

Arya stood up and made her way down front. She stood beside the rail in the front row and she was at the perfect height for him to lean over and place the crown of blue winter roses on her head. A huge cheer went up. A photographer suddenly appeared and began taking photos. Arya was horribly embarrassed but she stood proud and tall for Sandor Clegane. She would not disappoint him for the world. He smiled at her and something big and powerful happened in her chest. She swallowed hard and she realized she was crying! She was crying like the fool she was!

Sandor leaned forward. His helm was in the way but he got as close to ear as he could. “I love you.” He said simply. He put his gauntlets back on and took the reins and rode off. Arya steeled herself and tried to rule her face as she turned to face the still cheering crowd. She managed to make it back to her seat. Sansa took hold of her hand and grasped it tightly. She wasn’t fooled. She knew Arya was shaken.

Tywin Lannister appeared once again for the closing of ceremonies and then the tourney was over. Everyone tried to leave the stands at the same time. Sansa and Jon turned to look at her questioningly.

“What was that, Arya?” Sansa caught her arm.

“What?”

“The Hound crowned you the Queen of Love and Beauty!”

“Well, he had to crown someone, didn’t he? It was like you said. He probably just looked into the crowd and picked me.”

“But Arya, he called you by name.”

“So what? Do you think no one knows my name? They only know your name? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Of course not.”

“Besides, why shouldn’t he know my name? I won the melee yesterday. I also spent the night of the Red Wedding in a gardening shed with him, if you remember.”

That shut her up.

Arya pushed her way through the crowd until she’d left her family behind. She ran into Brienne and Jaime as she neared the gate beside the track.

“Congratulations for winning second place, Brienne. You must be proud since it’s your first time competing.”

“Thank you, Arya. That’s a lovely crown.”

“I can’t believe him! How could he have done this to me? This is the most ridiculous thing ever. I’m no beauty queen!”

Ser Jaime took hold of her elbow. “Lady Arya. The crown is not to proclaim you have the prettiest face or are the most statuesque or have the nicest boobs, or waistline or legs. The crown of blue winter roses at the Hand’s Tourney signifies the winner is dedicating his victory to you. What it really means is you are the winner’s love and his beauty.”

. . . . .

Everyone was silent on the ride back to the hotel. They thought she didn’t notice but Sansa and Jon kept sneaking looks at her. Sansa shook her head at Jon an Ygritte as they tried to come into her room. She motioned with her head for them to go to Jon’s room instead.

As soon as Arya and Sansa walked in, Sansa slammed the door behind her. Arya turned. She was alone with Sansa. Sansa circled around her. “You’re not fooling me for one second, Arya Stark. I know what I saw. When the Hound put that crown of roses on your head, I saw the look on his face.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Arya tried to bluff.

“It was like he only had eyes for you. It was like he forgot everyone else was there.”

“No, you’re exaggerating.”

“Yes, Arya. You know him. I don’t know why you’re trying to hide it. He certainly couldn’t hide it. He looked like he was in love with you.”

“You and your fairy tales, knights in shining armor and all that stuff.” Arya scoffed.

“No, I don’t believe in fairy tales anymore. Not after Joffrey and not after Ramsey but I know what I saw. You’re forgetting that I saw your face too, Arya.”

Arya gulped. She didn’t want to hurt Sansa. She’d already suffered plenty in her young life. “So what if you did see something. Is there anything wrong with that?”

“Why don’t you ask yourself that question, Arya. You’re the one trying to hide your relationship with him.”

Arya removed her crown and flopped down on Sansa’s bed. “I give up. Sandor’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh my Gods! It’s true!” Sansa shrieked. “You’re boyfriend is the Hound!”

“Well, he was my boyfriend until last night. I broke up with him.”

“Arya, he’s old enough to be your dad.”

“I can count, Sansa. I know he seems a bit rough but he’s really the most wonderful man I ever met.”

“If that’s true, why did you break up with him?”

“He scares the Hells out of me.”

“He’s violent?”

“No, I’m afraid if I lost him I couldn’t bear it.”

“Arya, you really are an idiot. You give up a man because you are afraid if you stay with him you might lose him? Wouldn’t you just lose him either way?”

“Shut up, Sansa.”

. . . . .

Sansa got in the shower to get ready to go to the Feast. Arya called Sandor.

“Sandor?”

“Yes, Girl?”

“I’m not a coward.”

. . . . .

Everyone was in Sansa’s room and ready to go to the Feast. Jon didn’t understand why there was a delay. Sansa and Arya wouldn’t budge. Finally, there was a knock on the door. Sansa answered it and ushered in Sandor Clegane. He looked very nice in a tux. He had Arya’s crimson ribbon pinned to his lapel. He looked at Arya in her beautiful gown and her crown of blue winter roses and got misty eyed.

Jon stood by staring stupidly. “What’s going on?” He finally asked.

Arya stepped forward and took Sandor’s hand. “Jon, this is my boyfriend, Sandor Clegane.”

Jon knew something was up but he could never have imagined this was it. Jon shook Sandor’s hand but then he got mad. “Hey, I don’t appreciate you letting Arya participate in the melee. She could have been seriously injured.”

Sandor was taken aback. “Listen here, Snow. First of all, have you met Arya Stark? You can’t tell her anything. Second of all, I didn’t even know she was going to be in the melee until I saw her out on the field.”

Jon started to laugh.

. . . . .

The Feast was held at the Red Keep in the great hall. It was designed like a traditional medieval feast with long tables set up on a dais for the Baratheons and the Lannisters. The important people were seated at round tables up front and the less important were seated further back. Aunt Lysa and Petyr Baelish were in the far back. Brienne was sitting at the top table with Ser Jaime. The awards ceremony was supposed to begin after dinner. Dinner had not yet begun and cocktails were being served.

Pod took the nearby stage and began to sing a capella. It was a sad mournful song called Jenny of the Oldstones. Everyone was captivated except for Littlefinger. Arya saw him slip out of the hall from the corner of her eye during the middle of the performance. She thought it was a little rude. He could have waited until the song was over. Arya was caught up in the sadness of the song. Pod could really sing. She decided she was pretty fond of Officer Payne. Sandor sat beside her and held her hand. They looked into each other’s eyes like lovesick fools.

After awhile, Sandor had to go do something for Cersei and Robin Arryn took his empty seat. Sansa politely asked about Aunt Lysa and Uncle Petyr. Robin informed them that his stepfather went back to their hotel, the Blackwater Bay. He was having trouble with an ulcer. Arya spent a little time thinking uncharitable thoughts about Uncle Petyr. After talking for a few more minutes, Robin said he had to go back to his table because he didn’t want to leave his mother alone.

Arya’s phone rang in her handbag. She was embarrassed. Everyone knew you should turn off your phone at an event like this. She reached in to silence it when she glanced at the caller ID. The caller was listed as “A Man”.

Arya answered quickly. “Hello.”

“Lovely girl. Rule your face. You must leave the party immediately. I have received information from a reliable source that there is an explosive device located on the premises. A man understands you have more courage than sense but I beg of you to be careful.”

“Who? Who is responsible?”

“Lord Petyr Baelish or as some call him, Littlefinger.”

The line went dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	19. Duty

Arya ruled her face. She tried hard to think. She must get her family out without drawing attention to herself. Arya excused herself and went to the ladies room. Luckily, the room was empty. She wedged a chair against the door handle with one of the chairs situated at a long mirrored vanity for the female guests. She took out her cheap burner phone and blocked her number. She’d always had the location tracker disabled. She called the police while disguising her voice. She informed them of the bomb. She dialed the number that “A Man” had called her from and had a brief conversation.

She went back to her seat and waited an excruciating couple of minutes until Sandor rushed across the room to her. “Girl, you must leave. There’s a possible explosive in the building.” He said to her and her family and Ygritte as quietly as he could. “Leave right now before there’s widespread panic.”

Jon got to his feet. They all followed suit. “Let’s go.” He demanded.

Arya turned to Sandor. “You must come with us.”

“I can’t, Girl. This is my job.” Sandor told her as he clutched her arms.

She knew he would do this. She just knew it. She leaned in close to his ear. “Give me your car keys, I need my vest.”

He pulled back and shook his head. “You will leave here. Immediately.”

“I’m going. I’m just taking my vest with me. Be careful, Sandor. Don’t die. I love you.”

He kissed her cheek quickly and handed her his spare keys. Jon had already started herding Sansa and Ygritte towards the door. Arya stepped back to Sandor. She leaned in and whispered into his ear. “If something happens to me, it was Littlefinger.” She left him staring at her as she turned and quickly caught up to Jon. Before they made it to the door, a loud flurry of activity and a shout went up in the room. The news was out.

Arya rushed to Sandor’s SUV and got her clothes and camouflage vest. They made it to Jon’s rental car just before people came spilling out of the doors of the Red Keep. Jon paused before pulling out of the parking area. “Maybe I should go back and help.”

Arya was sitting behind him and grabbed his shoulder. “Don’t you dare, Jon Snow. Your duty is to me and Sansa. Father would expect you to do your duty and protect us above all else.” Jon turned to look at her. “Besides, if Sandor doesn’t make it, I can’t lose you too.” Sansa and Ygritte agreed with her and urged Jon to just leave before the crush began. Thank the Gods that for once Jon listened.

They drove to the hotel in downtown King’s Landing. Everyone was strangely silent as fear gripped them. As soon as they got to the room, Arya changed out of her ball gown and announced she was going home.

“What? No, you can’t!” Sansa exclaimed.

“I need to go home.” Arya paced back and forth and bit her lip. “It’s my PTSD. I need to get somewhere I feel safe.”

Jon stared at her. “Do you have PTSD?”

Arya stared at him angrily, “What do you think?” She wasn't sure if she had some form of PTSD or not. She certainly wasn’t experiencing it right now. She just needed an excuse to leave quickly and without questions.

“We’ll go with you, then.” Sansa offered.

“No. I’ll take a cab. It will be fine.” She didn’t have time to argue. “Jon, do you have a hoodie?” It had started to drizzle. He found her a dark hoodie. She took the hoodie and her handbag and headed out the door. She marched down the hallway and Jon followed her. He called back to Sansa and Ygritte to stay in the room and lock the door.

Jon tried to comfort her in the elevator. She was distracted and didn’t have the time. Finally, Jon offered her his car keys. “Are you OK to drive? I want you to take my car.” She nodded and took his keys.

He pushed the button for the lower level parking garage. It was good he gave her the keys. That’s what she’d wanted him to do. She was only going a couple of blocks over to Littlefinger’s hotel, the Blackwater Bay and she didn’t want to take a cab.

Being dropped off out front of the Blackwater Bay Hotel by a cab would be beyond stupid. People would see her and there were security cameras. She didn’t want to be dropped somewhere else close by either because if the cab driver was asked about it later by the police he may remember her. Then she’d have to explain where she’d gone and why.

If the cab driver made the police suspicious, it would be difficult to lie about her whereabouts. She couldn’t lie and say she’d gone to a pub or something because there were too many cameras everywhere and the police may be able to get video footage to prove she was lying and hadn’t been in any pub.

Arya spotted a security camera right above a short staircase in the parking garage. She would need to get rid of her phone. She'd called the police and Jaqen on it. There might even be security footage from the Red Keep of her answering her phone when Jaqen called. Even though she knew Jaqen's number would be untraceable, the police still would want to know who she had spoken to if they ever became suspicious of her. She wasn't about to answer that question truthfully. Without her phone, though, it would be easier to lie.

She would need a good excuse as to why she didn't have the phone any longer. She took out her second burner cell phone from her vest and pretended to stumble and dropped it down the stairs. The police would never know the difference. Now she would have a perfectly good reason why she didn't have her phone anymore. It had gotten broken and she'd thrown it away. The proof it was broken would be preserved on the security footage. 

“Oh, Jon. I broke my phone.” She made sure her face was caught on the camera.

“Here, Arya. Take mine.”

“No, I shouldn’t. You need it.”

“You can give it back to me later. I can use Sansa’s in the meantime.”

Arya shrugged and took his phone. They walked to his rental car and Jon hugged her before she got in. She told him not to worry. She hoped this wasn’t the last time she saw him.

Arya drove a block over to the parking area for the little public park beside the seafront. She was careful to park in the far end of the lot where the security cameras couldn’t see the whole car. She reached under the dash panel by her knees and disconnected the interior light fuse. She knew the rental car’s GPS tracker and the event data recorder or black box would show she was at the seafront park at this time and date. It couldn’t be helped. She was in a hurry, and this was her best option. She could always tell the police she’d parked down by the seafront because of her nerves and she just wanted to be alone. If she were careful; they wouldn’t be able to prove differently.

She put on Jon’s hoodie and zipped it up and tucked her hair under the hood. She left Jon’s phone under the seat. She slipped out of the back passenger door into the brush. She traveled through the cover of the brush for a few hundred feet and then stepped onto the sidewalk which led around the waterfront straight to Petyr’s hotel. Good thing it was raining. No one was out and it explained a hoodie on a warm summer evening if someone should see her.

She made it to the Blackwater Bay Hotel. She slipped around to the staff entrance. No matter how much a business spent on security, there was always the human factor. Employees frequently came outside to smoke or to take out the garbage. No matter how many times they’d been told not to, they sometimes left the door propped open. It was open now. Arya called Jaqen again.

He answered and immediately barked out information. “Room S703. Everything’s ready. Just give a man the word.”

“Now.” Arya directed and then disconnected the call.

Arya slipped inside the door. She trusted Jaqen had hacked into the security system and disabled it. All the cameras should have been down. She could have done it herself. She had the training. She just didn’t have the time or a laptop. No one was around. She found the housekeeping carts. She unzipped her hoodie and put down the hood. She put on a housekeeping smock and found a scarf nearby on another cart and tied it over her hair.

She pushed her cart to the service elevator and rode to the seventh floor. The next problem was going to be Baelish’s security. She was pretty sure they had brought a three man team with them. She’d seen two of them at the Red Keep before she’d left. That meant Littlefinger most likely had one man with him.

The hallway contained four suites. It was empty. She exhaled. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. She wasn’t in the clear yet. Petyr may not even be here or his security man may be in his suite with him. She pushed her cart down the hall and parked it almost opposite Littlefinger’s suite. She listened and could hear his voice on the other side of the door.

“Calm down, my dear, Lysa. Yes, I know. I know. I know you have already been waiting a long time. I already told you. Yes. A car is on its way. I told you I managed to get a car. I sent Phillip with the car. You are perfectly safe. You only have to wait a little longer. Yes. I already told you. We’ll leave this Gods forsaken city as soon as possible. Yes dear. Yes.”

Arya waited a moment but she didn’t hear anything else. She could pretend to be housekeeping and knock but he already sounded stressed and nervous and may not open the door. She couldn’t just knock and tell him it was her. He would be suspicious. She really had no reason to be there. Besides, she’d gone and showed off again at the melee and he’d noticed she wasn’t a sweet and helpless girl. Jaqen was right. She really needed to stop showing off.

Fuck it. She took out her weapon and put on the silencer. She used her universal key card and opened the door. Littlefinger was on the balcony with his back turned to her and he didn’t notice she had entered the room. She slipped into the two bedrooms and bathrooms to make sure no one else was there. They were empty. Arya hid behind one of the half-open bedroom doors. She didn’t want him on the balcony. It was just possible someone else could be on another balcony and he could call for help. She would wait until he came inside.

She didn’t have to wait but a minute or two. He walked inside but left the balcony door open as he went to the bar and took out a glass and a whiskey decanter and started to pour himself a drink. She stepped out into the room. When he caught sight of her his face registered utter shock.

“Uncle Petyr. How nice to see you. Keep your hands where I can see them.” She said as she casually pointed her Ruger at him.

He froze.

“Where’s your security man?” She asked pleasantly.

“I sent Phillip to the lobby for something. He’ll be back any second.”

Arya grinned. “Fibbing as usual. So, it’s just me and you then. Good. We can have a little chat.”

He frowned and then finished pouring his drink. “Would you like a drink, my dear?”

“Tsk, tsk, Uncle Petyr. I’m not old enough to drink alcohol.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. I forgot.”

“What I would like to know is what you are doing here. I thought you were at the Feast.” Arya prodded.

“Well, I left early. Upset stomach, ulcers, you know.”

“Yes, it’s understandable to have an upset tummy. All that death and destruction. Bombings are very messy, indeed. What with body parts strewn all about and such. I would know. If you recall, I was at another bombing of yours; the Red Wedding.”

He looked at her as if she’d gone insane. He gave a short laugh. “Oh my, young lady, you have a fantastical imagination. Bombings? Death and destruction? I told your aunt that she should have you psychologically evaluated after your unfortunate experience at the Twins. It’s too bad she is so obstinate and unreasonable. A very bad combination, I might add. It’s not too late for you. We can still get you help.”

“You know, Uncle Petyr, there is something I’ve always wondered about you.”

“What’s that?"

“Why do they call you Littlefinger?”

He huffed. “Well, it’s a nickname. I’m not very tall and I'm from one of the Finger peninsulas on the east coast of the Vale."

“Oh, I always thought it had something to do with the size of your cock.”

He scowled at her. He’d left the bar and was edging towards his tuxedo jacket on the sofa. Arya surmised his holster and weapon were underneath it. “Uh-uh. Uncle Petyr. Move away from your jacket.” She waved her weapon for emphasis.

He stopped and shrugged. “Lady Arya. You know I was a dear friend of your mother.”

“Yes, you always claimed to be. That’s why I find your killing of her to be so despicable. Pray tell, what could have possibly been your motive?”

“You are a deluded teenager. I’ve killed no one.” He said petulantly.

He was standing with his back to the open balcony door. Arya raised her weapon. “You are beginning to bore me. Let’s hear the reason now, please.”

“My dear-“

She fired over his head. The bullet went through the open balcony doorway and out into space. That got his attention. He set his glass down hard on the side table.

“No need for that. I’ve done nothing wrong. You need help. It’s not too late, please.” He said angrily.

Arya removed the silencer from her weapon. She pulled the catspaw dagger out of her camouflage vest and holstered her Ruger. “You’re right. It’s not too late for me. The question is; is it too late for you?”

“Ha.” His eyes got big as he took in the dagger. There was a visible look of fear in his eyes. “Lady Arya. Please. Your actions could be considered as vaguely threatening. I’m sure the authorities might take that view.”

“Oh, Uncle Petyr, my actions aren’t meant to be _vaguely_ threatening. They’re meant to be _overtly_ threatening.”

“Why would you think I’d be capable of hurting anyone?”

“Chaos is a ladder, Uncle Petyr, and vengeance is a bitch.”

His eyes strayed to the sharp, gleaming Valyrian steel of the dagger and then back to her face. “This is ridiculous. You are a child; a mere teenage girl. I admit your performance in the melee was impressive but just because you have been trained in weaponry for a demonstrative purpose does not mean you are capable of killing. The act of killing is a completely different thing.”

“Yes, you are right. Some people don’t have the stomach for killing. Those kinds of cowards hire someone else to do their killing for them. Sometimes they even hire catspaw assassins to kill little boys. It’s obvious what kind of man you are.” Arya took two steps closer to him.

“You cannot be serious!” He backed away.

“Oh, I’m serious. You know that school I went to in Braavos? That school you and Aunt Lysa sent me to? Perhaps you should have done a little research before you let me enroll. You see, the House of Black and White is not really a school. It’s a religious order. A religion devoted to the Many-Faced God; otherwise known as the God of Death. The House is devoted to training all of its students to give a certain gift.”

He stared at her with his brows drawn together in confusion. He was frowning. He still didn’t get it.

Arya sighed. “Uncle Petyr, the gift is death. The House of Black and White are the Faceless Men.”

His mouth fell open. “What? This cannot be true.” He said incredulously.

“Oh, I assure you it’s true.” She smiled.

His tongue suddenly came unloosed. “Your brother Bran is fine! The assassin never even touched him! I never meant to kill your mother and brother. I didn’t even know they would be attending the wedding. I was trying to kill Walder Frey. It had nothing to do with the House Stark. I was just stirring things up so I could advance a little up the ladder. It was an accident.”

Arya laughed mirthlessly. “An accident? You killed and maimed over 100 people. And what about tonight? You certainly tried to kill my family tonight!”

“You were just collateral damage. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was trying to kill Lysa. I figured if I did it with all those important people there and in such a big way, they would either assume someone was trying to kill Twyin Lannister or someone else important. You can’t take it personally.” He babbled.

“Oh, but I do take it personally. I’m going to kill you now and believe me when I tell you, it’s personal.”

“But, but, you're just a girl! I'm too special to be killed by a girl! You cannot kill me!”

“Oh, but I can.” Quick as a cat, Arya Stark advanced on Petyr Baelish. He turned tail and ran. Arya lunged for him. The sound of his scream was loud and long.

. . . . .

Once she’d made it back to Jon’s car and was on her way home, she called Jaqen. “All clear.”

“Any problems?” He asked.

“No. Too bad he was so distraught.”

“Ah, a man understands. Don’t forget to clean up.”

“Something is puzzling me. How did a man get my phone number?”

He gave his throaty, sexy laugh. “A man is tempted to tell you he has magical powers but you left your phone on the counter when he made you breakfast.”

“Oh. Ha ha. Devious man?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

Arya disassembled and destroyed both her burner phones completely. She disposed of them in pieces before she reached her apartment.

. . . . .

Arya sat on her sofa with the catspaw Valyrian steel dagger clutched in her hand. She’d been sitting there without moving for at least three hours.

There was a knock on the door. “Arya, it’s me.” Sandor called out.

“Go away. No one is here.” She answered.

Sandor tried the door and surprisingly, it swung open. He took in Arya and her dagger. He sighed and sat on the floor against the other end of the sofa from her. “No one. Isn’t that what the Faceless Men call themselves?”

“Yes.”

Sandor closed his eyes for a moment and then he looked back at her. “What happened?”

Her eyes shifted to his and she looked him right in the eye. “I killed Petyr Baelish.”

“And why did you do that?” He asked calmly.

“Vengeance. He killed my mother and my brother.”

“And how does this vengeance feel?”

“Like ashes in my mouth.”

“Do you know why that is?”

She gave just the slightest shake of her head.

“Because you are not no one and never could be. I assure you that you are not emotionless. You are as far from not caring as a person can get.”

She stared at him. She had been holding herself very rigidly. She felt the stiffness begin to give way.

“Do you think you are the only person ever to kill anyone? I’ve killed lots of people, Arya. Do you think I am unfeeling? Do you think I don’t care? Do you think Jon hasn’t had to kill?”

“Yes, but it was your duty. It was Jon’s duty.”

“Was this not your duty, Arya?”

She felt like a solid block of ice and Sandor Clegane was the sun.

“I am a murderer. It wasn’t self-defense like it was before. I chose to do it and I did.”

“Have you covered your tracks?”

“I’ve done as well as I was able under the circumstances. I was trained by the House of Black and White.”

“You’ve done what you had to do and now it’s over. Now comes the hard part. You have to deal with it and then put it behind you.”

“Like you’ve done?”

“I’ve already begun.” He stated plainly.

“Good for you. I wish you well.”

“I can’t do it without you, Girl.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I could but I don’t want to.”

She frowned.

“So, you don’t care if I have to struggle on my own?” He asked.

Arya didn’t answer.

“So, you do care?” He gave her a ghost of a smile.

Arya said nothing.

“You told me you loved me. Did you not mean it?” Sandor asked gently.

Arya closed her eyes. She heard him get up from the floor. He took the dagger from her hand and she heard it clatter as he placed it on the beat up coffee table.

He sat beside her. “Part of loving someone is accepting the good with the bad. You’ve more good in you than anyone I’ve ever known. Littlefinger killed and injured lots of people. He tried to kill you and your sister twice. He tried to kill Jon. He tried to kill a bunch more people including me. I understand why you did what you’ve done and I accept it. Now let it go and come back towards the light. If you can’t do it for yourself right now, do it for me.”

Arya began to shake and she slumped into his arms.

“We need to get rid of the dagger.” Sandor quietly reminded her.

“Oh, I didn’t kill him with it. He jumped off the balcony of his hotel room.”

Sandor's face lit up and he grinned. “Why didn’t you say so? He committed suicide.”

“Not exactly. I was running toward him with the dagger at the time.”

“Close enough. He needed to pay for his crimes and he just chose his own way instead of yours.”

Arya gave him the briefest of smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	20. Never Afraid

Gendry called her early the next morning. He had been worried sick about her when he’d heard of the incident at the Feast. He hadn’t been able to get hold of her on her phone so he’d called Sansa. He stayed the night at Hot Pie’s.

“Arry, are you OK? Is Sandor there with you?”

“No, he had to go back to work. They are in a panic over at the Red Keep. They want all of their security around them at all times.”

“Did you hear about Littlefinger?”

“No, I just woke up. What happened?”

“He’s dead. He either jumped or fell off his balcony at his hotel.” Gendry informed her.

“Wow, really? I can’t imagine he’d commit suicide. He must have fallen.”

“I don’t know. The whole thing is weird. First a bomb at the Feast and then Littlefinger dies.”

Arya realized if that was what Gendry thought, other people were probably thinking the same thing.

“Hmm.” Arya said noncommittally.

“I’m coming over in about an hour; I don’t want you to be alone today.”

“I’m alright, Gendry.”

“I’m still coming.”

Shortly afterwards she got a call from Jon telling her about Uncle Petyr. Aunt Lysa was in meltdown mode and Sansa and he were going to go see her. Arya understandably opted out.

. . . . .

Jon and Sansa had to leave the following day. Sandor only got away from work for a few hours here and there. Gendry stuck by her side. Uncle Petyr’s funeral was the following week. Her whole family was going to go. Arya knew it was expected of her to go as well. It was just another unpleasant thing she had to do.

Just before she had to leave for the funeral, she happened to “bump” into Pod at a fast food restaurant.

“Arya! How are you?” Pod saw her as she was looking for a seat. “Here, sit with me.”

Arya sat at his table. “I’m fine, Pod, how are you?”

“I’m great! That sure was exciting the other night, wasn’t it?”

“Uh, not really, no.” Arya sipped her Coke.

“Have you been spoken to, yet?” Pod asked.

Arya about choked on her drink. “What?”

“The Feds are trying to speak to everyone who was at the Feast. I don’t envy them that job. Rich and important people are notoriously hard to pin down. It’s been my experience that they are too busy and too elusive to even respond to requests for interviews.”

“Is that right?” Arya found that information helpful.

Pod realized his mistake. “Oh, I didn’t mean your family.” He grinned.

“Yeah, well . . . “

“We were all very lucky.” Pod mused.

“Yes.” Arya frowned as she remembered.

“That wasn’t your first bombing, was it?”

Arya stared at him and let her face crumple up like she might cry.

“Let’s change the subject.” Pod said quickly.

Arya asked about Brienne. They talked about the tourney. Pod told her he was super impressed with her winning the melee and Arya complimented his singing.

Arya worked her way back to Littlefinger. “What about Petyr Baelish? Any news on that?” She asked casually.

“We really don’t know what happened. He probably fell. He doesn’t seem like the type to commit suicide.” Pod finished his drink. “It had been raining and the tiles on the balcony floor may have been slick. Anyway, I probably shouldn’t say this but he really wasn’t well liked by the KLPD. What with his type of business interests and all, I don’t think anyone is overly concerned that he’s dead.”

Arya just looked at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I know he was a relative of yours.”

“Not, really. He married my aunt not all that long ago. I didn’t really know him.”

“Well, anyway. His death has been ruled death by misadventure. That means accidental.”

Arya was glad to hear it. The police department must have really not liked him if they were just going to ignore the fact the security cameras just happened to go down just before he did.

. . . . .

Gendry and she were going to travel together by train to the Vale but Bran came through and sent his private jet for them at King's Landing. Sansa took a commercial flight back to King’s Landing from Sunspear in Dorne were she was working at an internship at a clothing design firm for the summer. They all flew together to Gulltown and a car was sent to pick them up and take them to the Eyrie.

Bran had already arrived with Jon. Bran’s jet had picked him up at Castle Black. Arya was hugged tightly by everyone. Rickon showed up at the last minute and was enfolded into the pack. Robin Arryn showed them around the Eyrie. He even opened the Moon Door for them and told them stories about how people used to be chucked out to fall to their deaths. Arya shuddered and kept well back.

Aunt Lysa went on and on and on about poor Petyr. She would tell anyone who would listen that he had committed suicide because he had been so overwhelmed from worry about her at the Red Keep during her ordeal.

“Oh! If only he had waited a few more minutes! He would have realized Sweetrobin and I were unharmed! He was always such an oversensitive man. It was just too much for him.”

Everyone else who knew Littlefinger was not of the same opinion but let Lysa think whatever she wanted. Arya thought she might be tempted to spit on Littlefinger’s grave but it turned out she didn’t want to after all. She didn’t even have a sense of satisfaction. She was just sad and drained. Littlefinger’s death didn’t bring back her mother or Robb.

Rickon was the first to leave the following day. Sansa was the next to go. She was going to leave earlier than the rest because the jet was taking her back in the opposite direction directly to Sunspear. They all took turns hugging her.

“Sansa, thank you for everything you did for me.” Arya murmured.

“It was nothing. I was just glad I got to see you.”

“Me too. Let’s not let so much time pass before we all see each other again.”

“How about we all do Sevenmas at Winterfell this year!” Everyone nodded enthusiastically. “You too, Gendry.” Sansa smiled. Gendry blushed.

As the car readied to take Sansa to Gulltown for her flight, Arya waved and called out, “I love you, fairy godsister!”

The rest of them left a few hours later after the jet had returned. They stopped in White Harbor to take Gendry home. Arya had hugged and kissed him.

“If you need me, Arry, I will come.”

Arya lost it and had to be led back to her seat by Jon who sat beside her and held her hand all the way to Winterfell. He wasn’t flying back to Castle Black until the morning so Jon, Bran and Arya had a bittersweet evening together talking about old times when they were children and everything was still right with the world.

Jon was the hardest to let go. Arya was not ashamed as she clung to him.

“Arya, Sevenmas is less than six months away.” Jon tried to console her.

“Yes, Jon, but we never know what the future may bring. You know that as well as I do.”

“Arya. I have not been a good brother to you. I understand that now. I promise you I will do my best to not let you down ever again.” Then Jon got emotional and they both melted into a pool of tears. Jon bent down and hugged Bran in his wheelchair. “You too, Bran.” Then all three of them fell apart.

. . . . .

It was after she and Bran were alone that Arya became more and more withdrawn. At first she talked to Sandor every day on the phone. He wanted to know when she was returning to King’s Landing and she didn’t have an answer so she just continued to put him off by telling him it would be soon. She had been at Winterfell a week when she finally ignored his call altogether and just texted him that everything was fine.

. . . . .

Lord Bran was sitting in the library reading when he was informed there was a visitor for Lady Arya at the gate. The visitor’s name was Sandor Clegane. Bran told his staff to show him in.

Sandor was shown into the library.

“Ah, Ser Clegane. It’s been a good while since I last saw you.” Bran greeted him.

“I’m not a Ser.”

“Oh, OK, Mr. Clegane, have a seat. Can I offer you tea or another refreshment?”

“Coffee would be great.”

Coffee was furnished for Sandor.

“Now, how may I help you, Mr. Clegane?”

“I’m here to see Arya.”

“Do you mean _Lady_ Arya?"

“No, just Arya.” Sandor sighed.

“I wasn’t aware you were a friend of my sister.”

“Well, I am.”

Bran snapped his fingers. “Now I remember. You won the Hand’s tourney and crowned my sister the Queen of Love and Beauty.” Bran laughed. “Oh, how that must have made her mad!”

Sandor frowned. “No, I thought she was pretty pleased, actually.”

Bran eyed Sandor speculatively, “Ah, perhaps it was the man who bestowed the crown that made the difference."

“Do you mean because it was me that gave it to her?” Sandor questioned.

“Yes. Although I was under the impression that it is Gendry who is Arya’s _particular_ friend."

“No! Gendry is just a friend.” Sandor said decisively. “I’m her _particular_ friend.”

“Ah, well, it’s good that you’re here. I’m afraid my sister, the wolf, becomes more feral every day that she is here at Winterfell.”

“Is she alright?”

Bran was quiet for a few minutes before he answered. “My sister informed me once we were alone here after our arrival that our mother and Robb can now finally rest peacefully. A rather odd statement, would you agree?”

Sandor said nothing.

“My calling is for the ministry. I intend to become a Septon in the Faith of the Seven, our mother’s religion. Arya asked me my views on sin and redemption.”

“I know you are very young but I hope you had some sound advice.” Sandor ventured.

“I think so. Although, I believe Arya follows our father’s religion of the Old Gods of the Forest. She was always our father’s child, more than anyone else in the family.”

“Yes, family means everything to her.”

Bran nodded. “She is our sister and she is worthy no matter what.” Bran said forcefully.

. . . . .

Sandor had to wait for Arya to return. She had been out riding her horse in the Wolfswood. Around lunch time he was informed that she had returned. He went down to the stables to meet her but she had gone. He was directed in the direction of the Godswood.

Sandor followed a path that led to a clearing. Arya was kneeling before a great weirwood tree with her head bowed. He stopped and debated whether to leave her alone as she was obviously at prayer.

Arya must have heard him because she turned around. She got to her feet quickly and ran to him and embraced him. "Sandor, you’re here!”

Sandor lifted her up so he could kiss her. “Yes, Girl, I’m here for you.”

Sandor looked over her shoulder at the weeping face of the weirwood and its red leaves. There was a calm pool. It was peaceful and lonely. It just felt right to him. This place was powerful. Winterfell was powerful. This had been here for thousands of years. This girl’s bones were a part of it. She was just as powerful.

. . . . .

They had a delicious lunch with Bran. Arya wanted to go to Winter Town for a little shopping afterward. They saddled up and rode into town. People everywhere knew Arya. They called greetings to her and she answered all of them and called most of them by name. They stared and stared at Sandor and his burned face. He became angry.

When he reached up to help Arya down from her horse, he noticed something. “Arya, where is your camouflage vest?”

She turned around in his arms when her feet were once again on the ground. “I don’t need it anymore, Sandor.”

Sandor was so glad; he immediately forgave all the townspeople for their rudeness. Nothing was going to upset him on this day. Sandor smiled in all of their faces. Some of them even smiled back.

Later, Arya showed him around Winterfell and they even sparred for awhile. He was stronger but she was quicker. Her fighting style was so different from what he was used to it kept him completely off balance.

“Fucking ninja.” Sandor said under his breath.

Arya had heard him. She laughed. “No, Sandor, I’m water dancing!”

. . . . .

They took a short nap together before dinner. Arya snuggled up against him and he held her tightly. They had dinner with Bran and afterwards he spoke of the history of Winterfell. Arya told Sandor she had applied again to KLU and had been accepted. After they said goodnight to Bran, Arya took Sandor down to the crypts. She showed Sandor her mother and Robb’s resting places and stone likenesses. She knelt down and gave a short prayer. She then stood beside her father’s tomb and touched it reverently.

“I’ve asked Father to forgive me. He would not approve of what I’ve done.” She seemed so small and alone in the deep shadows of the crypt Sandor could barely stand it.

He took her into his arms. “Your brother tells me you are a wolf. Wolves are fiercely loyal and they do best with a pack. If someone tries to destroy it, a wolf is likely to attack. That is the way of things. Surely, you father would understand that.”

Next Arya led Sandor to the baths. The ancient hot springs still burbled underneath Winterfell. Arya slowly stripped off her clothing and got into the warm bath and sat on the stone bench. Sandor had been in the baths before on his last visit to Winterfell but it had been with a bunch of smelly men. It had been loud and kind of festive in a way.

This time it was quiet and kind of spooky. The recessed lighting was turned down low. Sandor got undressed and joined Arya and sat opposite her on the other stone bench. The bench was smooth from years and years of use. People had bathed here for centuries. Parts of Winterfell were over 8000 years old.

The heat was relaxing. The vision across from him was everything he could ever wish for. “Arya, did I ever tell you how exquisite you are?”

Arya smiled at him shyly and her Northern grey eyes looked right into his soul. She stood and took two steps towards him and sat on his lap. He held her tucked under his chin. Sandor’s heart began to pound like a hammer. He wanted to kiss her and touch her so badly but she had been in a quiet, contemplative mood since he had arrived and he knew she was trying to come to terms with certain things. She’d come home to Winterfell to heal. He didn’t want to take advantage of her.

She began to rub the hair on his chest. Her hand slid down to the muscles on his abdomen. Sandor swallowed hard and tried to keep himself together.

“Have you missed me, Sandor?”

“Yes, Girl. I’ve missed you.”

She raised her head up and looked him in his eyes again. She began to lick her lips, slowly and deliberately. Before he could stop himself, he moaned.

“Do you need some attention, Sandor?” She asked as her dark brow rose seductively.

Sandor nodded, mesmerized by her.

Arya effortlessly turned herself on his lap to face him. She grasped his head in her hands and licked her tongue over his lips. He parted his lips for her and she licked into his mouth. Sandor grunted and grasped Arya’s hips and pulled her forward against him. He forced her back and forth across his thighs over and over again against his manhood while she devoured him with her mouth. He needed more friction. He needed more of everything.

She pulled her mouth off his. “Are you ready to take me to bed now?”

“Yes, Gods, yes. I’ve waited so long to love you.”

Arya got up off his lap. She exited the bath and wrapped a big, white, fluffy towel around herself. Sandor sat staring at her from the water. She turned toward the door but then looked back at him over her shoulder. “I’m ready. What are you waiting for?”

Sandor wrapped a similar towel around his waist. She was already far ahead of him. He followed her to her bedroom. He promised himself that he would go slow and easy. He would be very gentle. He would take his time and do it right. He believed what he’d told himself right up until the bedroom door closed behind him.

He found he was across the room in seconds. Sandor lifted Arya up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His tongue plundered her mouth as he took control. He carried her to a large armchair beside the fireplace and sat down. He pulled off their towels.

“Grind on me some more, Girl.” He breathed. He gripped her hips and slammed her against himself. Arya worked herself against him. “Mmm. Ah!” Sandor’s eyes rolled back into his head.

“Here, Girl, lean back. I’ve got you. Put your leg on my shoulder.” Sandor held her leg with one hand and helped her to balance. He used his other hand to touch her clit. “That’s right. Show me your pretty cunt.”

He eased his finger inside and slowly moved it in and out. “You feel so good.” He brushed her pleasure point and she moaned. “Do you like that?”

“Ah, ah, ah, ah.”

“Oh, my fine, fine, Girl.”

“Oh, Sandor.”

The way she said his name made him want to please her all the more. “I’m going to lick you now, my beauty.”

He helped her put down her leg and picked her up and carried her to the bed. “Lay back. That’s right. Relax.” He knelt on the floor and raised her legs up over his shoulders. He kissed and nipped at her thighs and worked his way up until his head was buried between her legs. She was keening in no time at all. He slowed his ministrations and pulled back.

“We’re almost ready.” He got up and quickly went into her bathroom and reached into his shaving kit on the vanity. He returned to her and lubed his fingers. He eased back into her and worked in two fingers and pleasured her. His breathing was heavy and unsteady. He lubed his thick cock with both hands and then he climbed over her.

He kissed her gently at first but her kisses were not gentle and she was driving him mad. He touched her breasts and laved her nipples. He brushed his fingers over her scars. She kissed and sucked on his neck and scratched her nails along his arms. She palmed his manhood and then her hand slid down to his balls. Sandor dropped his head and panted in short, sharp bursts.

He removed her hand. “Enough of that or I’m not going to last.” He took himself in hand and pressed the head of his cock against her. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Sandor swallowed hard and looked into her grey eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He went slowly at first but soon things sped up and went out of control. She kept urging him to go faster and harder until his last inhibition snapped and he was thundering into her.

“Am I hurting you?” He finally managed to ask.

“No! Keep going!” He pounded her and she made delightful noises. “I’m ready, Sandor. I want you to do it.”

“Do what?” He asked after his senses caught up with him.

“You said you wanted to mount me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly flipped her over. He pulled her back towards him and tried to go slowly and carefully but she kept pushing back into him and urging him on.

“Right there, Sandor, right there.” She moaned. He tried his best to hit the right spot. She was calling him home. Soon the bed was shaking. He was grunting and she was keening unintelligibly.

Suddenly, Arya tensed and her legs gave way and he had to hold her up as she spasmed. She cried out and clenched his length tightly and Sandor lost control. He pushed up into her as far as he could and spilled his seed where it belonged.

Sandor collapsed and pulled Arya into his arms. They were both glistening with sweat.

“I’m sorry, Arya. I was too rough for our first time.”

She felt like she had been hit by a truck. She slightly regretted getting caught up in the moment and urging him on quite so much. “I’m alright.”

He turned and looked into her face. “My sweet Wolf Girl.” He kissed her forehead.

“Wolf Girl?”

“You have the soul of a wolf but the heart of a lion. You are the bravest most powerful woman I know. You even accept me and my ugly scars.”

Arya brushed her hand across his scars and leaned over and kissed his burned cheek. “Sandor, I’ve never been afraid of your dear, sweet face.” She loved his dear, sweet face. She loved him. If he thought she was redeemable, then she had no choice but to believe him.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story. This was a real labor of love. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


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